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As third years, one of their first projects to complete is taking on an undercover assignment.
It’s usually not too complicated – a weekend laying low in some shitty safehouse, doing reconnaissance, gathering intel, and getting the drop on whatever drug ring or trafficking circle they’re investigating.
It’s all fake, of course.
There’s not enough “suspicious activity” to conveniently cover each student at the same time every year, obviously it’s all simulated garbage.
But Katsuki doesn’t give two shits about that. After months of surgeries, rehab, being stuck on light duty, more surgeries, and more rehab, he’s just fucking happy he gets to start off his final year at U.A. fully cleared to actually participate in crap again.
They’re assigned in groups of four over the span of five weeks. Aizawa usually tells them in class when it’s their turn, so they only get about a day’s notice before they’re sent off. And they don’t get any details other than the classmates they’re partnered with until they arrive at the safehouse.
“Dude, you’re being SO dramatic right now.”
“My hair won’t stay flat anymore, man! It’s been TWO DAYS.”
Kaminari and Sero were part of the first dumbass group of guinea pigs. It’s Sunday evening when they arrive back, tromping in loudly through the doorway to the 3-A dorms.
Already arguing and bitching, Katsuki notes from where he’s lounging in the common room with Kirishima, Izuku, Glasses, and a few others.
“You could’ve just slept on the floor,” Kaminari grouses. He drops his duffel bag right there in the middle of the entryway and wanders over to faceplant onto one of the couches with a loud groan.
Sero scowls and kicks at the bag until it’s up against the wall and out of the way, then tosses his own on top of it. “I didn’t want to sleep on the floor.”
“Rough weekend?” Kirishima asks, reaching out his foot to prod at Kaminari’s side.
“Not really!” Kaminari twists onto his back and points an accusing finger at Sero. “He’s just mad we had to share a bed.”
Sero mirrors the gesture and points right back. “I’m slightly annoyed because you sleep like a damn monkey and now my hair is staticky as all hell.”
Katsuki gives him a closer look and then snorts because it’s true – his normally straight-as-a-board hair is sticking up all over like someone rubbed a balloon against his head for a solid five minutes.
“You had to share a bed?” Izuku pipes up.
“Yeah.” Kaminari groans again. “The house was a dump, all small and squished. There were only two bedrooms. Ojiro and Tokoyami took the other one.”
“It’s not meant to be a luxurious vacation,” Iida says, adjusting his glasses as he speaks. “The safehouse shouldn’t be anything that stands out and draws attention.”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be total shit.” Sero flops down next to Katsuki, immediately sprawling out and encroaching on his space with his gangly arms. “They could’ve forced an extra bed to fit.”
“There was a couch,” Ojiro says tiredly from the doorway, with the tone of man who has clearly repeated those exact words about fifteen times since Friday.
“The couch was lumpy,” Kaminari grumbles.
Sero’s hand bumps up against Katsuki’s bare arm and a small spark zaps between them.
“Oi, get your static shock bullshit away from me,” Katsuki says, shoving at him, and Sero tussles back for a moment before he stands with an exasperated huff.
“I’m hitting the bath,” he announces. “Gonna see if I can shampoo the electricity away.” He points at Kaminari again. “Good luck to your future wife, dude. This shit’s ass.”
Kirishima waits until he’s stomped away to shoot Kaminari a curious look. “I’ve totally fallen asleep in your room before and MY hair’s never done that.”
“Probably didn’t notice before you gelled the crap out of it,” Katsuki says.
“Ah, maybe.” Kirishima grins at Kaminari this time. “He’s right, though – you do sleep like a monkey.”
Katsuki nods. “Clingy as fuck.”
Kaminari splays a hand over his chest with a theatrical gasp. “Um, rude. I’m not clingy, I just like to cuddle!”
“That’s the same fucking thing!”
Kaminari harrumphs. “Midoriya will cuddle with me,” he says confidently, and then lurches up so that he can tip over in the opposite direction directly into Izuku’s lap. “Right, Midoriya?”
Izuku just chuckles and ruffles a hand through Kaminari’s hair, and Katsuki does his best not to bristle up or scowl too much at the whole display because he KNOWS that’s exactly the entire fucking reason Kaminari’s draped all over the nerd in the first place. Because he’s an asshole like that.
He’s one of the few people who knows Katsuki wishes he could be all touchy-feely with Izuku. Wishes he could casually lean into him, drop a head on his shoulder, share a blanket with him during class movie nights, but he fucking can’t because the things he wants to do aren’t actually casual at all.
It was something of a struggle for him to get to the point where he could admit that to himself. Admit that whatever complicated feelings he had for Izuku at the end of the war ran so much deeper than he ever could’ve anticipated. It was a fucking journey – a little awkward and a lot embarrassing realizing that he had some kind of lame-ass crush on his childhood friend, and admitting it to Kirishima and Kaminari and Sero had definitely not been part of the plan.
But they’d somehow sniffed it out anyway. Claimed he was “obvious” or some shit, which is SO not fucking true.
And now he has to deal with those losers always teasing him about it and shit.
The annoying thing is he’s not even that mad about it. They’re obnoxious dickwads, but they’re also rooting for him.
It’s Katsuki who’s the problem, because he can’t fucking get his act together and DO something about it.
He doesn’t know how.
He’s known Izuku for damn near his entire life and it definitely hasn’t been all happy fun times between them. They’re in a good place now, sure, but trying to push them past that into something better is a nerve-wracking concept. They’ve only been on decent terms for maybe eighteen months – Katsuki’s not sure he can stomach the idea of doing something that would fuck things up between them again.
“Tell us how everything went,” Izuku says, leaning over Kaminari to peer down into his face. “What kind of information did they give you? Did you get to wear disguises or anything??”
Kaminari’s eyes light up and he starts rambling out some story that Izuku and Iida, especially, are way too interested in. Katsuki half listens, but he’s more distracted by the eager look that flashes across Izuku’s face. The way he nods along, soaking up every word Kaminari says, his cheeks dimpling as he smiles.
Most of their class has been looking forward to this assignment for months, so it’s no surprise that they want to hear about the first group’s experience. Knowing none of it’s real takes some of the excitement out of it for him, though. The only high stakes are his passing grade at the end of it all, but whatever.
He’s not complaining about finally being back in the field again.
* * *
That all goes out the window in class the following Thursday.
“Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki,” Aizawa reads, sounding utterly bored. He glances up from his list, pinning each of them with a look. “You four are up this week. Decide amongst yourselves who you’re rooming with. You’ll be heading to your destination this evening, so make sure you’re packed and ready to go.”
For about three seconds, Katsuki thinks he doesn’t care who he has to share a room with. Any of those three would be fine – even Icy Hot, if it’s a good day and he’s being honest with himself instead of putting up a grumbling front just for the hell of it. The obvious choice is probably Kirishima, though, and he can already sense the other boy turning to grin at him when it suddenly pops into his head:
He’s just mad we had to share a bed.
Katsuki’s stomach lurches and, without thinking too hard about it, he spins around in his seat to slap a hand onto Izuku’s desk.
“Room with me,” he blurts out, and everyone around them seems to suddenly freeze. Kirishima’s eyebrows nearly fly off his forehead, Kaminari loudly snorts, and Izuku–
Izuku just blinks.
And then grins, big and wide, the scar on his cheek crinkling up as his eyes crease into crescent moons.
“Sure, Kacchan!” he chirps, and Katsuki has to battle down the blush that tries to flood his face. “That sounds fun!”
“Not fun,” he mutters. “It’s for school. It’s work.”
“Mm.” Izuku rests his cheek against his fist, brows quirking upward the slightest bit. “If you say so.”
“It’s just facts,” Katsuki insists. Fuck, he feels warm.
“What’s it been – at least ten years since we last had a sleepover?”
Katsuki scoffs. “Well, whose fault is that?”
Izuku stares at him and Katsuki promptly tries to disappear through the floor, but unfortunately that’s not the Quirk he was blessed with.
“I MEANT,” he starts, scrambling, “recently, ya damn nerd. This year or whatever. You always leave!”
Izuku’s cheeks go a bit pinkish, which is interesting. His gaze slides to the side as he clears his throat. “Well, I don’t want to impose…”
“No one else gives a shit about imposing.” Katsuki turns back around and slumps down in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “Buncha fuckin’ barnacles.”
After Katsuki’s little dying and coming back to life stunt, all his classmates have this dumb need to make sure he’s breathing at all times or some shit. He lets them hang around because he’s nice like that, actually, but the truth is that a lot of them seek out comfort for other reasons. They’ve all been plagued with nightmares since the war ended, so it’s not an uncommon occurrence for random groups to occasionally pile up in the common room on particularly bad nights.
Katsuki’s friends usually prefer to barge into his bedroom instead. And he maybe always forgets to kick them back out.
But Izuku never stays long enough for it to matter.
“You’re the LEAST subtle person on the planet,” Kaminari says later when they’re walking back to the dorms after classes are over for the day. “Like, holy shit.”
“Do you have some kind of plan?” Sero asks.
“No.” Katsuki kicks at a rock in his path, shoulders hunching up around his ears. “No plan, no angle. Just didn’t wanna deal with Shitty Hair’s snoring.”
Kirishima pouts. “I don’t snore!”
“You really kind of do.” Sero sways sideways, bumping into him. “Don’t worry, it’s better than electrocuting your bed partners.”
“Oh my god,” Kaminari complains. “You’re FINE.”
“Sure, now. Finally got my hair to stay flat again.”
Kaminari reaches out a finger to zap him in the shoulder and then takes off in a dead sprint, cackling as Sero squawks when his hair instantly poofs back out.
“Oh, he’s so dead,” Sero growls before quickly chasing after him.
Kirishima chuckles for a moment as he watches them, then slides a look over to Katsuki. “Seriously,” he says. “A few days sharing a room, no one else around to get in your way… You’re not gonna try to confess?”
“The fuck am I, a middle school girl?” Katsuki shoves his hands into his pockets and frowns. “Not like we’re going to be alone alone. You morons will be there. And in case you forgot, we’re supposed to be working.”
“Aw, come on.” Kirishima waves him off. “We’ll have downtime. And Todoroki and I will stay out of your way!”
“I don’t need your help.”
“But I could be your wingman!”
“I don’t NEED a wingman!”
Kirishima knocks into him and digs an elbow into his side. “You’re really banking on this whole ‘there was only one bed’ thing, huh?”
Katsuki’s face heats up as he splutters. “NO.”
“Alright, alright.” Kirishima holds his hands up as he backs off and grins. “Fine, I get it. But I’m here if you need me!”
“Fuck off. I’ve got it covered,” Katsuki says, which is a blatant lie. He has nothing covered. No ideas. And the nerd probably doesn’t even feel any kind of way about him anyway so it’s pointless to get all worked up about it!
It’s not like Izuku seemed to care either way about sharing a bed with him. Katsuki’s seen him get flustered when a girl so much as breathes in his direction, but he was fucking fine and dandy with the idea of Katsuki being all up in his space. Because it’s not a big deal.
So Katsuki just needs to treat it as such.
And not be a freaking weirdo about it.
* * *
Fuck, Katsuki’s going to be weird about it.
“Oh, what the hell,” he gripes as soon as they open the door to their assigned room. And because that’s not enough to express his frustration, he then sweeps out an arm to gesture at everything inside. “What the fuck is this?!”
“Um.” Izuku’s brows pinch inward, his mouth twisting a bit. “It’s…a bedroom?”
“IT’S–” Katsuki stops, floundering, then scowls. “It’s small.”
Big enough for two beds, though.
TWO.
Not one.
Goddammit.
“It’s not that bad,” Izuku says obliviously. He claims the bed by the window, dropping his duffel bag onto the mattress. “At least you get to sleep by yourself?”
Ouch.
Sure, just fire that arrow directly into Katsuki’s back.
“Ah,” Todoroki says, appearing in the doorway behind Katsuki. “You also have two beds. Sorry.”
Izuku squeaks out a strangled sound, but Katsuki’s too busy spinning around to pin a glare on Half-and-Half to pay it any mind.
“Why are you sorry?” he demands through clenched teeth. The fuck does this asshole know?? “Just means this place is better than the dump they ended up in last week.”
Todoroki peers over Katsuki’s shoulder, presumably at Izuku, his lips pressed together and turned down slightly at the corner. “…Right,” he says after a moment. “Why would any of us here want to share a bed with someone else if we didn’t have to? Especially if it’s someone we specifically asked to room with and who immediately said yes when asked. That would be silly. You’re right, this house is more appropriate for our needs.”
Katsuki squints at him, then turns to glance back at Izuku just in time to see his hands drop quickly to his sides.
Okay…
He can’t tell if they’re acting strange or not.
Well, Todoroki is always strange.
Whatever.
Katsuki shoulders past him out into the hallway. “I’m gonna go check out the rest of the house.”
Not that there’s much to see. At first glance, it appears to only have one floor. Two bedrooms down the back hallway, a combined kitchen and dining area that extends into the living room. It’s traditionally decorated with tatami mats and low tables, and minimally stocked food-wise. The single bathroom has two shower heads for cleaning and a large tub for soaking.
Nothing fancy, all pretty simple.
Except for the underground gym he accidentally finds when opening a door he thought would lead to a closet.
It’s not super impressive or anything, aside from the fact that it exists in the first place. He supposes being underground means it’s hidden from the public eye, at least – even if their assignments are fake, the safehouses are real. It makes sense that if other heroes are stuck here for a while, they’d want to have someplace to exercise without drawing attention to themselves.
The gym is about half the size of a basketball court. There’s a hoop on one side, and matted walls all around with a stack of extras piled up near the door. On the opposite end of the room, there’s a collection of shitty free weights and a bench press that looks like it hasn’t been used in months.
Footsteps come thundering down the stairs behind him before Kirishima spills out of the open doorway. He whistles as he takes a look around.
“Hey, not bad! Kaminari and Sero didn’t say anything about their place having a gym.”
Katsuki snorts. “Like they would’ve used it anyway.”
“Sero might’ve.”
“Debatable.”
“Oh wow,” comes Izuku’s voice next. “This is pretty nice.”
Katsuki looks over to find him and Todoroki crowded at the bottom of the staircase. “Might as well use it since it’s here.” He jerks his chin in Izuku’s direction. “Saturday, same time as always. No reason to skip a workout.”
“I’m game if you are,” Izuku says, grinning. “They’ve got mats – we could totally spar!”
“No Quirks,” Todoroki says. He stares hard at Katsuki. “We can’t risk anyone hearing your explosions.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath. “Yeah, yeah.”
Todoroki nods once and then turns to Kirishima next. “I’m heading to bed.”
“I’ll come with!” Kirishima says, scrambling after him. “I’m beat anyway.”
Katsuki and Izuku follow them up, taking turns in the bathroom before turning in. Izuku sits cross-legged on his bed, pillow squished against his chest as he watches Katsuki unpack.
“You know we’re only here until Sunday, right?”
“Yeah, and?” Katsuki refolds another shirt and tucks it away in one of the drawers of the single dresser in the room. “Only slobs would choose to live out of a suitcase.”
Izuku gives a low chuckle. “Guilty, I guess.”
“There’s still room.” Katsuki gestures at the bottom two drawers. “I left those open for you.”
“Eh, I’m okay.”
“Where the fuck are you gonna put all your dirty shit then?”
“Uh… Back in my bag?”
Katsuki’s entire face scrunches up. “Gross.”
“It’s not gross!” Izuku insists with another laugh. “I usually just shove everything into the side pocket. It’s fine!”
“Gross,” Katsuki says again. “At least pack a laundry bag or some shit, geez.”
“We’re here for THREE DAYS. It’s so not a big deal, Kacchan.”
“Tch. Says you.”
Izuku huffs out a sigh and flops onto his back, starfishing across the comforter and staring up at the ceiling. “…Hey, do you remember when we used to make blanket forts in your living room?”
Katsuki pauses where he’s busy organizing his bag and the suitcase all his hero gear is stored in. “Yeah…” He shoves the items up against the wall and then finally clambers onto his bed.
His own fucking bed that he’s sleeping in by himself.
It’s not often he tries to unbury the memories of their shared childhood. He spent so long forcing himself not to think about any of that shit, not to look back fondly on the few years they were actually friends, that sometimes he thinks he actually succeeded in wiping all of it from his brain. It was a survival tactic throughout all of middle school – he couldn’t think about ANY of that if he wanted to boot the nerd out of his life.
When any memories decide to rear their heads now, it’s always a bittersweet feeling. Usually drenched in guilt.
And Katsuki has spent a lot of fucking time this past year carving out a spot for himself in Izuku’s life. Which means he’s uncovered a lot of shit he thought had been shoved away forever.
It’s been a complicated process becoming friends with him again.
Complicated, but worth it.
…If a little awkward at times. It’s dumb how it’s turned into a vicious cycle – he falls into the trap of how surprisingly easy it is to let himself grow closer to Izuku, only to get forcibly snapped out of it when the line between wanting to hang out with him and wanting to hang all over him blurs and occasionally disappears altogether.
The first time he accidentally found himself wanting to shove their mouths together, he’s pretty sure his heart nearly exploded out of his chest all over again purely from mortified shock.
Izuku flips onto his side, resting his head on his pillow and curling an arm beneath it as he stares Katsuki down. “We made your mom real mad that one time.”
“You made her mad,” Katsuki says immediately. “Trying to use that lamp to anchor the damn blanket.”
“Wha– Kacchan, that was YOU.”
“It fucking was not!”
“It was!!” Izuku barks out a loud laugh and briefly buries his face against the pillow like he’s trying to hide his sudden grin. “Although you tried to blame me back then, too.”
“Whatever. It was an ugly lamp anyway,” Katsuki grumbles. “And the hag’s always mad about stupid shit.”
“We still shouldn’t have broken it.”
“She just ended up getting another one, so the hell does it matter?”
Izuku hums, falls quiet for a beat, and then blurts out: “We should make another blanket fort.”
“I can name eighteen other losers who would love to help you with that.”
“No, like – here.”
Katsuki blinks at him. “…Right now?”
“Ah…” Izuku shifts his focus, concentrating a little too hard on burrowing beneath his covers. “I mean. I guess it’s late, but tomorrow night? When we get back from doing recon. We could, uh…push the beds together maybe. If you want!”
“Okay,” Katsuki says slowly. Two beds pushed together basically counts as one bed, right? “Fuck, if you want.”
Izuku beams an excited look his way and Katsuki just about chokes on his tongue. “Really?!”
“Sure,” Katsuki says, strangled.
“Sweet, okay. Okay! I’ll see if I can find some more blankets!”
“I think there were some in the hall closet…”
“Oh, perfect.” Izuku grins at him again and Katsuki somehow refrains from yanking his own comforter right over his head and hiding forever. “Hey, Kacchan?”
“What?”
“Your birthday’s on Sunday.”
Oh.
Shit, it is, isn’t it?
“What about it?” Katsuki asks, and Izuku shrugs.
“Just saying. What do you want?”
“We haven’t done gifts in a decade, Izuku.”
“You haven’t,” Izuku says. “I tried for a few years.”
Katsuki grimaces, then scrubs at his forehead like he can rub the frown lines away. “…Right.”
Across from him, Izuku also winces a bit. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean anything by that, I’m just saying.”
“Don’t fuckin’ apologize.”
“Ah, sorry.”
“IZUKU.”
“Hah – right, right. Um. It’s just – we weren’t in the dorms yet first year, and last year…”
“You fucked off to play vigilante?” Katsuki supplies, and Izuku’s cheeks round out in a pout.
“We were busy,” he corrects, which is a fucking lie. Izuku was busy. Katsuki was freaking the fuck out over Izuku’s prolonged absence. “This is the first year in a while we’ll actually be together to celebrate!”
Listen, Katsuki’s about to be eighteen years old. He doesn’t need to celebrate his birthday like he’s still in grade school or something. He’s a year from graduating and becoming an actual pro hero! Basically a goddamn ADULT.
“Or are you too cool for birthdays now?” Izuku says knowingly, eyebrows arched.
Katsuki scowls. “We’ll still be here. Or on our way home.”
“Well! I can get you something when we’re back.”
“I don’t need anything, Izuku.”
“Hmm.” Izuku reaches out to switch off the lamp that’s on the nightstand between their beds. “I’ll think of something good anyway.”
“Izuku.”
“Goodnight, Kacchan!”
“You’re so fuckin’ stubborn.”
“Yeah.” A trill of laughter tumbles out of him. “I am.”
“…Night, nerd.”
* * *
Katsuki smacks a folder down onto the dining table, next to a box full of various hats, wigs, and other shit.
“Our target is a dealer who’s trying to push Quirk enhancement drugs through underground circles. We have to figure out when the next shipment is coming in, where the handoff is happening, and show up like we’re about to take out the members involved.” He flips the folder open and digs out a page with multiple headshots on it. “These are the main assholes in charge of shit. There’s five of them.”
Todoroki blearily squints at the paper as he shovels some rice into his mouth. “What info did they give us?”
“There’s a list of likely hangouts they might be lurking around,” Izuku says, sliding another paper over for him to see. “Izakayas, pachinko parlors, stuff like that.”
“Can we even go in pachinko parlors?” Kirishima asks.
Katsuki pushes another item across the table. “They made us fake IDs.”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
“It’s funny these guys are all just actors,” Izuku says as he looks over the headshots. “That must be a fun job.”
“They don’t know which students are assigned.” Katsuki drags the box over next. “We want to keep it that way, we’re not supposed to be spotted when we’re eavesdropping and shit.”
Izuku grins big and rubs his hands together. “Disguises! Guys, we can dress up as gang members again!”
Kirishima nods. “Or like we work at a host club!”
“Students from another high school,” Todoroki suggests, but Izuku’s lower lip juts out at the thought.
“That’s boring, though…”
Katsuki just eyes all of them in faint disbelief. “Hey, idiots,” he says loudly. “We’re not pulling your Kamino bullshit again. It ain’t that fuckin’ complicated.” He rummages through the box for a moment, then tugs a baseball hat on backwards and shoves a pair of non-prescription glasses over his nose. “This is a university town. We just gotta look like stupid college students and we’ll be fine.”
Both Kirishima and Izuku groan a little.
“So I was almost right,” says Todoroki.
Katsuki hits him with an exasperated glare and tosses a beanie at him. “Cover your hair, that’s the most important thing. It’s way too obvious otherwise.” He glances at the other two. “Same goes for you losers. We’ve all gotten too much coverage since the war.”
“Those glasses just make your eyes stand out more,” Izuku says.
It goes quiet.
Todoroki sighs, and Katsuki feels his eyebrows creeping upwards.
“Who the fuck is looking at my eyes?”
“Uh–” Red blooms beneath Izuku’s freckles and spreads across the bridge of his nose. “Um. No one?”
A leering sort of smirk spreads across Kirishima’s face. He leans forward across the table, propping his chin on his fist. “I dunno. You look so handsome in glasses, Bakugou. Who knew!”
Katsuki’s nose wrinkles. “Ew, what the fuck.”
“You do!” Kirishima’s smirk turns shark-like, further emphasized by his sharp teeth, and he swings around to blast his grin pointedly at Izuku. “Doesn’t he, Midoriya?”
Izuku squeaks and shoves himself away from the table. “I’M GONNA GO CHANGE.”
“Oi, no stupid t-shirts!” Katsuki calls after him. “You’re with me, we’re hitting the bars!”
“OKAY, KACCHAN.”
Kirishima waits until he’s disappeared down the hall to start obnoxiously cackling. He folds in on himself as he laughs and leans into Todoroki, who’s staring dead-eyed at Katsuki.
“You both are exhausting.”
“The hell did I do?” Katsuki demands, but Todoroki just shakes his head and pulls a long, blonde wig out of the box, arranging it carefully over his hair.
“Do I look pretty?” he asks in the most monotonous tone Katsuki’s ever heard in his life.
“Beautiful, dude,” says Kirishima.
Katsuki makes another face at the pair of them, then goes to make sure Izuku doesn’t try putting on a shirt that has the words CURRENTLY UNDERCOVER plastered across the chest or some shit.
They borrow some of Kirishima’s hair gel to wrangle Izuku’s curls into a slicked back, stupid little ponytail thing. Katsuki throws some sunglasses and a hoodie at him, as well, then for himself tosses a plaid button-down over a graphic tee he found in the box. It’s way too many colors and he looks like a total geek, but it’s fine. He’s supposed to look different.
Izuku can’t stop staring at him for some reason. Katsuki’s almost grateful when the nerd hurries to put the sunglasses on because it mostly hides where his gaze lands, which means Katsuki can actually focus on the task at hand.
They spend a good chunk of the afternoon scoping out the list of establishments where they might potentially find their targets. Learning their layouts, finding the best places to lay low and hang out. Cross-referencing the days these guys are most likely to appear at certain locales with different windows of time is all part of the assignment. It’s their job to determine the best option in the end, and if they do it correctly then they’ll hopefully end up in the right place at the right time and be able to listen in on some useful conversations.
Katsuki’s not really sure he’s built for this underground hero type shit. His Quirk certainly isn’t built for it. He’s too loud and flashy – definitely a heavy hitter.
But he’s also smart. And so is Izuku.
So it’s not too difficult for them to figure out they need to be at an izakaya that’s popular with the local university crowd instead of any of the ones that cater more to businessmen. They huddle together at the far end of the bar where Katsuki can easily keep one eye on the door, and order some drinks to keep themselves occupied.
“Do you think the bartender’s in on it?” Izuku asks, hands cupped around his melon soda. He’s got his sunglasses pushed back into his hair, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up and covering the rest of his green locks. “Like, if I order a real drink, is he gonna report that back to Aizawa-sensei? My fake ID says I’m allowed.”
“You’re fuckin’ nuts,” Katsuki says. “We can’t get drunk, dumbass. Order us some karaage.”
“I don’t think I’d get drunk off one drink.” He waves down the bartender as told. “I could take small sips!”
“A drink is a drink, no matter how little you have at a time.” Katsuki eyes him. “You’re probably a lightweight anyway.”
“No way! I bet I can do shots like a champ.”
“Oh, we’re doing shots now?”
“Well, not today. But we could sometime.” Izuku pauses, fiddling with his napkin. “We could, uh…do all of this for real sometime. Actually.”
Katsuki frowns in confusion. “Go drinking?”
“No! Just – go out.” His eyes widen suddenly, color flooding his face. “Hang out, I mean! Go out and hang out at a restaurant or something. You know, like off-campus. For food. Like people do.”
“We…could,” Katsuki says uncertainly. “It’s not healthy to eat out that much, though.”
“Oh my god, Kacchan.”
“I’m saying I can COOK for you, fucking god.”
Izuku blinks. “…Oh. Oh!” He grins, nodding eagerly. “Yeah, that’d be cool, too! But we should still do stuff away from the dorms sometime. Just you and me.”
Katsuki gives him a narrow look, trying to figure out his angle. Exactly what kind of you and me situation is this? He’s glad he can say now that he and Izuku chill together a lot in the dorms, but it’s true that there’s usually some other nosy asshole also present. It’s inevitable given their living situation. Sometimes they study together, and they have a weekly workout routine that’s almost always just the two of them…
But hanging out by themselves off-campus, intentionally, would definitely be…new.
And super friend-like.
All buddy buddy.
…Yeah, he’d be fine with that. It’s fucking time, they don’t need a buffer anymore.
“If you want,” he says, and a relieved breath whooshes out of Izuku. “I’m down.”
“Great!” Izuku smiles down at his soda, practically vibrating in his seat. “Great, great. Cool, cool, cool.”
It doesn’t take much longer for their targets to show up, and Katsuki can’t help feeling a bit smug that they got it right. Izuku fires off a quick text to their group chat with Kirishima and Todoroki to let them know, and then they wait a few minutes before casually relocating to a booth that’s closer to where the other two men sat down.
After that, they have to sit through nearly a full fucking hour of boring-ass conversation before anything interesting comes up. And even then, they only drop the name of the main ringleader and mention meeting up with him later. Which isn’t enough, it doesn’t give them a time or location where the shipment is being dropped off. But the men are already gathering their shit up to leave, so that must be the most they’re getting.
Fuck.
They relay that pitiful amount of intel back to the others before heading out themselves, keeping a safe distance from the targets. Katsuki half wants to follow them for a few blocks, just in case they say anything else. There’s nothing in the rules that says they can’t follow them, after all.
He doesn’t even get the chance to suggest as much to Izuku before one of the men draws to an abrupt halt in the middle of the sidewalk and curses.
“Ah shit, I left my jacket.”
“Seriously?” says Jackass #2. “Man, you’re always leaving your shit everywhere.”
“I ain’t always doing anything, asshole.” Jackass #1 turns around, and Izuku moves before Katsuki can even blink, shoving him up against the outer wall of the izakaya and planting his forearm alongside his head. “It’ll take me two minutes to grab it, come on.”
“Hey,” Katsuki starts, bristling up despite himself, but Izuku leans in close – so fucking close, what the hell – and shushes him with a hissing breath.
“Just play along,” he whispers pretty much directly into Katsuki’s fucking ear, and a shiver tingles down his spine.
Whoa.
“Boss man’s gonna be pissed if we’re late,” Jackass #2 says, but he lumbers after #1 anyway.
“We’re not gonna be late!”
Izuku’s other hand drops and finds its way to Katsuki’s waist. He’s got one ear turned slightly toward their targets, but the rest of his body rests flush against Katsuki’s. With his hood up and his face mostly obscured, to anyone else passing by it probably just looks like they’re – like they’re doing couple-y type shit.
Katsuki very suddenly forgets how to breathe.
He can’t focus on anything other than the heat of Izuku being so fully pressed against him. Somehow, mechanically, he forces his arms to lift so he can clutch at the other boy’s hoodie. Izuku makes a small sound and Katsuki swallows thickly. He can feel every damp exhale brushing over his cheek, his jaw, his neck when Izuku bends his head a little closer.
The targets walk right past them and disappear back into the izakaya. Katsuki thinks that’s it, starts to push Izuku back, but he just shakes his head.
“They’re gonna come back,” he murmurs. “Let’s wait until they’re gone.”
“Izuku,” Katsuki says, strained, but the door opens again and the two men come strolling back out.
“When are we supposed to grab the stuff again?” Jackass #1 asks.
“What, didja lose that, too? Misplaced your whole brain, huh?”
Izuku shifts against him. Katsuki can tell he’s still trying to listen, trying to hear the answer, but his movement reveals Katsuki’s face a little too much and makes it obvious he’s just awkwardly standing there. So he quickly winds an arm around Izuku’s waist and ducks his head down to burrow into the curve of Izuku’s neck.
“Stop being a dick,” Jackass #1 complains.
#2 snorts. “Tomorrow night,” he says. “Sundown. Ain’t hard to remember.”
That’s all they say about it. The topic switches immediately to something else as they continue on their way, and Izuku doesn’t move a single iota until they vanish around the corner at the next block.
Then he lets out a slow exhale and squeezes at Katsuki’s hip.
“They’re gone, Kacchan.”
“Mm.”
“You okay?” Izuku finally takes a step back, slowly putting space between them. “Kacchan?”
Katsuki whips his head back up. He has to force his hands to unclench from Izuku’s sweatshirt. “Yep, I’m good,” he says, voice cracking, and god, fuck. What the shit. He clears his throat, whirling away and shoving past Izuku. When he speaks again, his pitch has lowered a truly unnecessary amount in some lame-ass attempt to compensate. “Come on, let’s go. Maybe Kirishima and Todoroki got the location from their people.”
Izuku drifts after him. Katsuki can still smell him – the crisp, clean scent of his shampoo, the slight spice of his deodorant. It clogs his senses, wraps around him and seeps into his skin like Izuku’s still pressed against his body.
Close.
So, so close.
His phantom touch lingers, as well. The feel of his palm branded onto Katsuki’s hip through multiple layers of clothes.
So close and yet so far.
* * *
They make a blanket fort that night.
It’s possibly the shittiest blanket fort in the history of the entire fucking universe, and some part of Katsuki can’t even believe he’s doing this, but Izuku is all sunshine and smiles the whole time they’re fighting with the numerous comforters and quilts.
So it’s worth it.
Honestly, Katsuki thinks he would probably do damn near anything to keep that cheerful look on his face. Including stealing the coat stand from the front hallway to act as one of the corner pillars. The floor lamp from their room works well enough for the other.
They shove their beds together and pull blankets from the top of the headboard across to the coat stand and floor lamp, haphazardly pinning shit together and rubber-banding blankets in place. Once finished, there’s barely even enough room to sit up inside. But they crawl beneath the blankets anyway and settle onto their backs, heads at the foot of the beds because there’s more space between them and their new canopy on that side.
Izuku turns on the flashlight on his phone and rests it between them, then snorts lightly. “Well, it’s not our best effort. But it works.”
“There are probably, like, at least twelve other ways we could’ve done this better,” Katsuki grumbles. “We should’ve put the mattresses on the floor. That way there’d be more than friggin’ six inches of room in here.”
“It’s not that bad.” Izuku reaches his arm up, feeling for the quilt above them. “Definitely closer to two feet.”
“Still.” Katsuki settles his hands on his stomach. “I guess my living room was way bigger than this shithole.”
“We were also a LOT smaller.”
Katsuki huffs out a soft laugh. “Fine, that’s true.”
“And this isn’t a shithole, Kacchan.” Izuku absently trails his fingers along the mattress, tracing a random pattern into the bedsheet. “It sounds like it’s better than where Kaminari and Sero ended up.”
“Tch, they were just yapping nonsense,” Katsuki says, gaze sliding somewhere off to the side. Away from Izuku. “All that whining about the bed situation.”
Izuku hums a little. His fingers tap out a restless beat. “So… You wouldn’t have minded?”
“Minded what?”
“Um. Sharing a bed.”
Katsuki’s head lolls back in his direction, meeting his wide-eyed stare. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at him.
Until Izuku titters out a nervous laugh. “I – I was just curious. Because, I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to, uh. Want to room with me. So–”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Katsuki interrupts, and Izuku’s eyes grow even more round. Katsuki’s brow pinches inward. “You’re still so fuckin’ surprised by it, huh?”
“…By what?”
“Me wanting to be around you.”
“Oh.” It goes quiet again as they both continue watching each other. Izuku shifts a bit, edging closer. Angling more toward him. “No,” he finally says, almost thoughtfully. “It’s not that I’m surprised. I just sometimes forget that it’s…real.”
Katsuki presses his lips together, trying not to let that sting.
Something in his expression must be pretty telling, though, because Izuku continues in a rush, “But that’s not on you! You’ve been amazing, Kacchan, I just – I don’t know, it’s a confidence thing or something maybe.”
“It is on me,” Katsuki says. “Because I had to be a fucking dick for so long–”
Izuku shakes his head fiercely. “No. You apologized, we’re past that. It’s – I’m – ugh.” He laughs again, high and breathless, and then turns fully toward Katsuki and reaches out to clasp a hand around his wrist. “I just wanted it too badly. I missed you, and now that we’re, you know. Friends again and stuff – I keep overthinking stupid things because if I lose you again, I might actually die.”
An abrupt silence envelops them yet again, but it only lasts for about two seconds before Izuku’s face turns brilliantly red.
Katsuki can’t help it.
He snorts, then snickers when Izuku immediately groans and flips onto his stomach so he can bury his face against the mattress. “Holy shit, Izuku. Dramatic much?”
“Noooo,” Izuku whines, folding his arms over his head. “Don’t tease me, Kacchan!!”
“Don’t say stupid shit, then!”
“I meant it, though!”
“Nah, I mean that crap about losing me or whatever.” Katsuki turns onto his side and closes some of the distance between them, grabbing Izuku’s shoulder and forcing him to come up for air. “I’m not going anywhere this time. Okay?”
Izuku’s breath seems to catch in his throat. His eyes dance across Katsuki’s face for a few seconds before he slowly nods. “Okay,” he says faintly.
“I’m serious!”
“Yeah.” Izuku holds his gaze. “I know you are.”
Katsuki jerks his head in a single nod, as well, and then releases him. “Okay. Good.”
God, it’s fucking hot in their stupid blanket fort. Too much body heat, obviously. Katsuki flaps his shirt uselessly, trying to create some kind of breeze.
“I’m really happy, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs after a bit, and Katsuki’s temperature skyrockets even further.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, pointedly ignoring Izuku’s knowing grin. “Now you’re just being sappy.”
“Fiiiine.” Izuku rolls onto his back again. “Today went pretty well.”
“I guess.”
“It did! We confirmed the date and time. Todoroki and Kirishima got the location. We’re all set for tomorrow!”
“Stupid handoff happening down at the docks,” Katsuki mutters, tone just about as flat as he can manage. “The fucking docks, Izuku. Like we’re in a shitty old era Gotham movie.”
“It makes sense if the drugs are being transported overseas,” Izuku says. “But also, you know none of that really matters. It’s not real, we just have to ‘catch’ them.” He makes air quotes around the word. “And see proof of the exchange.”
“Right.” Katsuki exhales an irritated sigh. “No real fighting. S’fucking boring.”
“Previous intel says they have a pretty big crew. Upwards of fifteen, twenty people.” Izuku shrugs. “So the sneaking around might be fun? They’ll probably be stationed all around the area and the whole point is we can’t be seen.”
“Kirishima sucks at stealth missions,” Katsuki says with a smirk. “He fucks ‘em up in every video game ever.”
Izuku gives him an unimpressed look. “This is real life, Kacchan.”
“It’s half real. Mostly fake as hell.”
“We’re still sparring tomorrow, right?”
“Duh.”
“See, so you can get all your need for aggression out then,” Izuku says blithely, and Katsuki splutters.
“Oi, I don’t have a need for aggression, what the fuck?!”
Izuku tries to muffle a laugh, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth. “Yeah, okay, Kacchan.”
“I don’t!”
“Suuuure.”
“Oh, you’re gonna get it in the morning, nerd.” Katsuki huffs and battles with the bedsheet, trying to tug it free and slip beneath it without collapsing the rest of their shitty fort. “I’ll show you fucking aggression.”
“Mm-hmm.” Izuku curls up beneath his own sheets. “Looking forward to it.”
They’re still facing each other. Lying there maybe a foot apart. Still technically on two separate beds.
This time, though, it almost doesn’t feel like it.
* * *
Katsuki jumps backwards, dodging out of the way of Izuku’s punch. He drops low, swinging a leg out to try and knock the other boy off his feet. But Izuku hops right over the move and lands on one foot, pivoting on his heel and whipping the other directly at Katsuki’s side. A quick block with his forearm takes care of that, and then Katsuki goes on the offensive before Izuku can properly catch his balance again. Fists jabbing, looking for an opening.
They move swiftly across the mats they’ve strewn over the floor, footwork practiced and smooth. Katsuki’s already pinned Izuku once, and has been pinned once in turn, so this is the tiebreaker round.
“You got it, Midoriya!” Kirishima cheers from the far side of the gym. “Beat his ass!”
Katsuki scowls and Izuku takes advantage of the slight blip in his focus, catching his fist the next time he throws a punch and pulling him forward to drive a knee up into his gut. It knocks the wind out of him, but he’s not about to go down that easily.
With a wheezing grunt, he twists away and grabs for the back of Izuku’s knee, trying to dump him on the floor.
“Ack–!” Izuku pinwheels his arms and attempts to scramble away. Katsuki grips him tight and yanks, but instead of toppling over, Izuku throws a hand out and bends backwards to catch himself on the ground. His back arches, shirt riding up his stomach, and Katsuki falters.
Fuck, fuck.
He’s still holding Izuku’s knee aloft, but his thoughts have scattered to the winds. Gaze intently zeroed in on the fine line of dark hair that trails down from Izuku’s navel and disappears into the top of his shorts.
Katsuki’s so focused on the absolutely fucking wrong thing that he doesn’t see Izuku’s other leg coming. His shin clocks him in the side, making him curse and stumble, and then Izuku pulls some kind of fuck-ass yoga acrobatic bendy trick and gets both legs hooked around Katsuki’s middle. They lock tight, squeezing his waist. Izuku’s core tightens, he twists again and heaves, and suddenly Katsuki’s world flips upside down.
His back hits the ground with a solid thud and Izuku’s instantly on top of him. Knees straddling his hips, pressing down against him. Katsuki tries to jerk upwards, tries to shove him off, but Izuku grabs both of his wrists and slams them down above his head.
“Gotcha,” he says, panting and grinning way too big.
“You don’t got shit,” Katsuki snarls back as he struggles to get free. He yanks at his hands, tries to break Izuku’s hold, but Izuku just grips him even more tightly. “Get off, asshole!”
“Nuh-uh.” Izuku crosses his ankles behind him, over the top of Katsuki’s thighs, to secure his position. “Tap out, Kacchan!”
“No!”
“Tap out.”
“NO.”
Izuku jostles a bit as Katsuki bucks again, but he forces his hips back down, pinning Katsuki hard with his own, and oh.
Oh fuck.
Oh shit.
Katsuki’s eyes fly open and a strangled sound erupts from his throat.
“Izuku, get off,” he says in a rush as panic claws up his spine. He stops trying to throw the nerd off and instead makes an attempt to melt into the floor. Draws back, tries to put space between them, but there’s nowhere for him to go. “DEKU.”
Of course, Izuku’s an oblivious dumbfuck.
“Say you give!” he crows.
“I FUCKING GIVE.”
His tone catches Izuku’s attention that time. Of fucking course.
But instead of GETTING THE FUCK OFF, he pauses.
Furrows his brow as he peers at Katsuki.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Katsuki snaps, face burning. He squirms beneath him, but hell if that does him any good. If anything, it just makes his whole sudden fucking erection situation all the more obvious. “I’m fine, okay, I said I give! Let me up, you win!”
Izuku frowns in a concern. He shifts a little, exactly the wrong way, and starts to bend in closer.
“But you–”
And then he freezes again.
Katsuki can see the exact moment he figures it out. That he fucking feels it.
He watches as Izuku’s eyes slowly go wide and the tips of his ears turn red.
And then Izuku looks down.
“…Kacchan, are you–?”
Another strained sound explodes out of Katsuki. He twists to the side and this time Izuku tumbles with him.
“Get off, get off, get off!”
“Wait, Kacchan!” Izuku grabs at him as he tries to scramble away. He gets a fistful of his shirt and tugs him back, but Katsuki fights it like a hissing, spitting cat trying to escape a bath. “Kacchan.”
“No,” Katsuki grunts, clawing at the floor. He ends up on his stomach, so at the very least that means his goddamn dick is out of the way, but Izuku’s still wrestling with him.
They probably look like a pair of complete fucking idiots. In fact, he’s sure they do. It’s a miracle Kirishima and Todoroki haven’t tried to pull them apart yet.
“KACCHAN,” Izuku says again, fighting back against Katsuki’s nonstop wriggling. “Would you just calm down–”
And then he slips.
His knee gives out and he collapses onto Katsuki’s back, flattening him into the mats on the floor.
Which, like, ow.
Also, UGGGHH.
Also, also – holy shit.
Katsuki goes still. He hears Izuku groan, feels him shift a bit, and holy fucking shit.
There’s no hiding it. No way around it. Izuku’s plastered right up against his ass and he’s absolutely hard as a fucking rock.
This is either the worst day of Katsuki’s life or possibly the best. He doesn’t even know. He’s not sure he can separate his own horrified embarrassment from the delirious shock of thrill that shoots through him from Izuku pressing into him like that.
He feels hot. His skin is buzzing. If Izuku’s still talking, his words are a faded drone in the background.
–Until he yelps, anyway.
An entire verbal waterfall spills out of him after that: “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, shit, Kacchan, I’m so sorry, I’M SORRY.”
Izuku rolls off him, and then keeps right on rolling until he’s put a safe distance between them. Two whole mats, in fact. Then he simply smushes his face into the ground and groans. Katsuki considers potentially dying again, or maybe lying there for another minute or two or fifty, but they can’t both pull that ridiculous move. At least ONE of them has to deal with this.
…Later, though.
Katsuki shoves himself up to stand, wavering unsteadily in place for a moment. Without even sparing a glance in Izuku’s direction, he quickly – and stiffly – walks over to the far side of the gym where Todoroki and Kirishima are still planted on the ground, resting back against one of the matted walls and looking utterly exhausted for some fucking reason. Even though neither of them has done jack shit yet. He squats down in front of them without a word, elbows braced on his knees, head bowed low, hands gripping at his hair, and contemplates the very real possibility that he might want to explode his entire face off.
“Bro,” Kirishima says heavily, and Katsuki literally snarls at him like some kind of feral dog.
“Fuck off. I don’t wanna hear it.”
“Fine, but can you get that out of my face?” Katsuki lifts his head just enough to see Kirishima flapping his hand in the direction of his shorts, and god, fuck, his dick is STILL straining against the flimsy material currently stretched tight across his crotch from the position he’s dropped into.
Heat blooms in his cheeks as he scrambles up to his feet, but that’s not any fucking better because his shorts still aren’t doing a single damn thing to hide this shit. Kirishima levels an even more unimpressed look on him, and Katsuki collapses back into a pile on the floor again, this time drawing his knees up to his chest.
Todoroki snorts a little. “That was surprisingly entertaining.”
“I will actually kill you,” Katsuki grinds out, shooting him a glare overtop his knees.
“Do you need to take a cold shower?” Todoroki summons up a small pile of ice in his right hand and lets a flame flicker to life on his left. “Happy to provide.”
Katsuki feels his face twist up into some kind of embarrassed glower. “I’d rather die again, Half-and-Half.”
“Fine. Sit there and suffer.”
“This has never fuckin’ happened before,” Katsuki hisses – not that he needs to explain himself, but he has some kind of weirdly desperate urge for this pair of losers to understand the batshit wild predicament he’s found himself in. “We do this crap all the time at U.A.!”
“It’s almost like there’s some kind of strange tension between the two of you,” Kirishima says, overly thoughtful as he taps a finger against his chin. “Maybe something potentially unresolved.”
“You’re unresolved,” Katsuki mutters. He uncoils the slightest bit from his hunched-up position. Maybe it’s safe now? He does still have a workout to finish, and he’s nothing if not disciplined. Katsuki nudges a foot out to bump against Kirishima’s shoe. “Come on, asshole, spar with me.”
“Uh, pass.” Kirishima gives him an innocent grin. “You might poke someone’s eye out with that thing. Shatter glass or something.”
Katsuki gapes at him. “I wouldn’t – what – you’re not gonna fuckin’ shatter, your whole Quirk is GETTING HARD–”
Kirishima’s grin widens because he’s a goddamn nuisance. “Not that hard,” he quips with another sweeping gesture at Katsuki, and a frustrated noise tears out of Katsuki’s throat.
“Midoriya’s still over there anyway,” Todoroki says, leaning to the side so he can peer around Katsuki over to where Izuku is presumably still laid out face down on the floor in his own miserable puddle of mortified teen angst. “I think he might be dead.”
“FINE.” Katsuki scowls and shoots back up to his feet. “At least come spot me on the bench press.”
Kirishima does a piss-poor job of smothering a sudden laugh, looking entirely too gleeful. “Dude.”
“We can spot you from here,” Todoroki deadpans, and this time the laugh explodes out of Kirishima unhindered.
Wow.
WOW.
“You’re both fuckin’ dead to me.”
“Oh no,” says Todoroki, completely unconcerned, and Kirishima cackles so loudly that Katsuki doesn’t feel even the slightest bit bad when he blasts an explosion at him.
* * *
Unfortunately, they still have the assignment to complete.
More fortunately, however, it goes off without any complications whatsoever. They manage to sneak in undetected, get the drop on the Big Boss, and successfully stop the handoff.
And then all the drug ring actors congratulate them and take them out for ice cream – which is so fucking weird.
Definitely one of the more bizarre assignments they’ve had.
They’re not scheduled to head back to U.A. until the next morning, and it’s late anyway by the time they make it back to the safehouse. Both he and Izuku are quiet as they trudge into their shared room, and it stays that way as they dismantle the blanket fort in some kind of silent agreement. The beds get pulled back apart, Katsuki returns the coat stand to the front hallway, and it’s quiet quiet quiet.
So fucking quiet, and that makes it awkward because Izuku is NEVER quiet.
They’re probably being dumb, right? Blowing this whole thing way out of proportion. They’re GUYS and dicks are freaking stupid sometimes. Just out there doing whatever they want at the most inopportune moments. There’s no reason for them to be so weird about it.
But Katsuki can’t find any words to say. He’s good at a lot of things – most things, really.
Talking through a difficult moment is NOT one of those things. Or attempting to explain his feelings or whatever the fuck is going on in his head.
Izuku’s got some kind of dejected air about him. He looks all morose and shit, and it just gets worse the longer the silence stretches between them. By the time they’ve crawled into their separate beds and turned off the lights, Katsuki can’t fucking stand it anymore.
So when the nerd makes a little sniffling sound, Katsuki throws his blankets right back off and swings his feet over the side of the bed.
“Kacchan?” Izuku asks softly.
He stands, marching across the three feet between them.
“Shove over.”
It’s dark without the lamp on, but dim moonlight filters in through the single window. Enough that Katsuki can tell Izuku’s eyes grow round.
He doesn’t argue, though. Doesn’t question him or anything. He just scoots back a few inches and lets Katsuki clamber up onto the mattress, slip his legs beneath the covers, and settle onto his side with an irritated huff.
The bed isn’t very wide, so they’re more than a little squished together. Katsuki keeps his back to Izuku’s front, gaze fixed straight ahead, waiting for the confused tension to drain out of Izuku’s body.
“I can feel you freaking out that we fucked something up between us,” Katsuki murmurs, and Izuku sucks in a breath. “I already told you – I ain’t going anywhere.”
“I just…” Izuku stops. Exhales in a whoosh, then continues, “I don’t want to make anything weird.”
“It’s not weird.” Katsuki reaches behind him, feeling for Izuku’s arm, and then drags it forward around his middle. He feels Izuku briefly tense up again, but it doesn’t take him long to relax into it. His arm settles heavily over Katsuki’s waist and he inches forward the tiniest bit. “Just don’t pop a boner again and we’ll be fine.”
One beat passes.
Two.
And then Izuku lets out an incredulous, outraged little squawk.
“Me?!” He lifts up onto his arm, leaning over Katsuki and scowling down at his face. “YOU had one first!”
“So don’t fuckin’ react to me, then!” Katsuki rolls onto his back and glares up at him. “Ignore it next time and MOVE ON.”
“What – next time?” Izuku’s head drops closer. “Why would there be a NEXT TIME? Kacchan??”
Katsuki flips back over and buries his face against the pillow.
“KACCHAN.”
“I don’t know!” he exclaims, muffled, only to jerk right back around again and hit him with another glare. “Because I’m–” His hands gesture aimlessly. Helplessly. He bites back a frustrated groan. “I’m, like, stupidly into you, and I’m SORRY about that, okay, but you just gotta fucking deal with it. I’m not gonna do anything, I promise we’re fine, but you can’t get all in your head about it that I find you…” Katsuki flounders. Gesticulates some more in an increasingly flustered way, and then finally spits out: “Attractive.”
He manages to make it sound like an insult. Somehow. He’s skilled that way.
Izuku’s jaw falls open. “You think I’m attractive??”
“Oh my god.” Katsuki fights with the covers, ready to flee back to his own goddamn bed now. “Fuck off and die, Izuku.”
“Wait – no!” Izuku grabs at his shoulder and yanks him back, pinning him to the mattress. “Hang on, hang on. Kacchan.”
“What?!”
Izuku crashes forward into him, and it takes Katsuki a solid five seconds to realize that the mouth pressed damn near violently against his is not, in fact, some kind of attack.
It’s just Izuku kissing him.
He’s still barely managed to wrap his brain around it before Izuku pulls back again.
“I’m stupidly into you, too!” he says wildly, eyes bright and almost manic. “Kacchan, I like you so much.”
Katsuki’s heart decides to suddenly perform an impromptu gold medal acrobatics routine in his chest.
His breath hitches.
“…Oh,” he croaks, which – ugh. Fucking get it together, goddamn.
When Izuku kisses him this time, though, Katsuki manages to actually kiss him back.
He’s never done it before. And he’s pretty sure Izuku hasn’t either. So it takes them a minute to get the hang of it. To figure out how their lips are meant to slide over each other, how they should angle their faces so their noses don’t smush together. How to give and take and fall into a comfortable rhythm.
And then Izuku lets his tongue peek out, swipes it sort of tentatively over Katsuki’s bottom lip, and it’s like a firecracker goes off in his gut.
He surges upward into Izuku, pressing against his chest, one hand lifting to dig back into his unruly hair. Izuku chokes out a groan and lightning cracks through them both.
It turns frantic after that. The kiss grows sloppy. Hungry. Katsuki finds his body willingly arching beneath Izuku when he slips his hands under Katsuki’s tank top and drags them over his sides. He hooks a leg around Izuku’s hip and rolls against him, his foot catching behind Izuku’s thigh and using it to anchor himself.
Izuku groans, long and low and desperate. He keeps pushing at Katsuki’s tank top, shoving it up and baring his stomach until Katsuki gets sick of it being in the way and sits up to rip it off over his head. Izuku scrambles to follow suit, flinging his shirt to a random corner of the room.
They stare at each other for a moment. Panting, chests heaving. Katsuki’s straining against his boxer briefs and he can see the obvious tent in Izuku’s shorts.
“You really like me?” Izuku asks and Katsuki rolls his eyes.
“Fucking duh.”
“But you… You like-like me??”
“Okay, well I’m not twelve,” Katsuki grumbles. “I’m seven–” He pauses. Glances at the clock on the nightstand. “Eighteen.”
Izuku’s gaze snaps over, as well, seeing that it’s after midnight. “Oh my gosh. Happy birthday, Kacchan!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Katsuki curls his arms loosely behind Izuku’s neck. “I know what I want, by the way.”
“Ah…”
“You asked before.”
“No, I know.” Izuku shifts, moving with Katsuki’s gentle tugging and lowering him back down onto the bed. He hovers over him, braced on one forearm, his other hand drifting from Katsuki’s waist up to the starburst scar in the center of his chest. It’s still too new to have faded with time, instead starkly standing out against the pale backdrop of surrounding skin. Izuku’s tentative as he skates the pads of his fingers over it. “What do you want?”
Katsuki tremors. His arms go tight, pulling Izuku even closer.
“You.”
A soft sound tumbles out of Izuku’s mouth and he falls forward into another kiss. He’s more sure now, confidence swelling with every second that passes, and Katsuki flashes hot at the new feeling of skin on skin. He can’t stop clutching at Izuku’s back, hands dragging over him, sliding from his shoulders to his neck down to his hips and back up again.
He feels unhinged. Insane. Everything’s new and he can’t get enough of it. It’s intoxicating, the way Izuku’s lips move wetly over his, and heat explodes somewhere low in his belly when Izuku tears away from his mouth to kiss along his jaw, down his throat to the dip in his collar. When he moves even lower, presses his lips right on top of that scar above his heart, a full-body shudder wracks through Katsuki.
“How do you want me?” Izuku murmurs against his skin.
“Any way,” Katsuki says raggedly. “In every way, Izuku.”
Izuku’s eyes lift to peer up at him, and fuck. That’s fucking dangerous.
“Right now, though?”
“I said what I said.”
“But…” Izuku blinks, clearing some of the haze away. He darts a quick glance over to the door. “We can’t…do things here.”
“Why not?” Katsuki demands.
“What if the others hear??”
“Fuck ‘em. They’re already asleep anyway.”
“Kacchan…”
“What’s the problem?!” He glowers up at him. “If I want, and you want, then what the fuck, Deku?”
“I haven’t, uh.” Izuku fumbles a bit, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “I haven’t done anything like this before and we don’t – I don’t think we have the right stuff?”
“Who needs stuff,” Katsuki grumbles petulantly, and Izuku just gives him an exasperated look.
“WE do. We need, like. Condoms probably?”
“You just said you haven’t done this before!”
Izuku’s cheeks darken enough that Katsuki can actually see the pink in them when the moonlight slants across his face. “Okay, but we still need them, I think,” he mumbles.
“I haven’t–” Katsuki pauses. Jerks his head to the side, scowling. “I haven’t done anything either, though. So we’re both fucking clean or whatever.”
“It’s a safety thing,” Izuku insists. “They always mention it in Sex Ed.”
“Fuck you, do not talk to me about that stupid class right now.”
Izuku gives him another look, his lips pursed. “We don’t have lube either. At least, I didn’t bring any.” His eyebrows arch. “Did YOU randomly decide to pack lube for this school assigned trip, Kacchan?”
“No,” Katsuki growls.
“See? We would definitely need that if we were going to – um…”
Hah, he can’t even say it. God, he’s so freaking cute.
The corner of Katsuki’s mouth tugs upwards. “Fuck?” he blithely supplies, and Izuku squeaks out a flustered noise before nodding. “Ugh, fine. But we can still…” He rolls his hips against Izuku’s, watching as his eyes flutter shut.
“Yeah,” Izuku says, breathless. “I mean. If – if you’re sure. Then yeah. We can still.”
“I’m fuckin’ sure.” Katsuki’s head tips backwards into the pillow as Izuku grinds down against him. “It’s my fucking birthday, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Izuku laughs against the curve of Katsuki’s neck where he’s got his face buried now, sending another shiver tingling up his spine. “You’re so mouthy, Kacchan.”
“And the sky is fucking blue.”
Katsuki gasps when Izuku sucks at a particularly sensitive spot and threads his fingers into green locks to press him closer, shuddering again when Izuku hums against his skin. He brings a thumb up to brush over Katsuki’s nipple, mouth sliding lower until he finds Katsuki’s scar again.
“Does this hurt at all?” Izuku asks softly.
“No,” says Katsuki in between uneven breaths. “Not anymore. S’just – ugly. Don’t know why you keep trying to make out with it.”
“It’s not ugly.” Izuku looks up at him fiercely. “It’s proof you survived.”
Katsuki’s voice turns thick. Gravelly. “Sap.”
“Yeah,” Izuku says, and then he kisses the jagged scar all over again. Almost reverently. “I love it. I hate what happened that led to it… But I love that it’s here.”
Katsuki cups the curves of Izuku’s face and drags him back up to kiss him desperately. His mouth trails a wet path to Izuku’s cheek, pressing against the phantom freckles that are no longer there. Long hidden beneath scar tissue of his own. “Yours, too,” he whispers, and drops a hand low to graze down Izuku’s arm. “All of them. Every single one.”
They find each other again, lips melding together, movements turning rushed and harried. Izuku’s hands are everywhere. Groping his pecs, palming at his waist, squeezing and then scraping over his abs. He teases along the band of his boxer briefs, dipping beneath, and it’s overwhelming and heated and becomes even more so when they both finally manage to shimmy out of any remaining clothing.
Izuku’s hips drop onto his, flexing against him, rubbing along the entire length of his dick, and a garbled sound rips free from Katsuki.
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuckfuck–” The heat spikes. Katsuki’s muscles tense, boiling desire coiling tight in his gut as he ruts back up against Izuku. “That’s good, fuck, like that, just like that.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku gasps out. He slips a hand between them, curling around Katsuki for the first time, his fingers giving him a tentative squeeze, and–
And Katsuki fucking comes.
Just like that.
It explodes out of him with a suddenness that makes his head spin. His hips jerk, dick spasming as jizz shoots across his abs and holy shit, fucking god.
That was–
Fast.
Nngh.
Izuku freezes above him, eyes round. Just watching as Katsuki shakes and trembles through his orgasm, spitting curses and slapping his hands over his face to hide his burning cheeks.
Holy shit that was so fucking fast what the fuck.
“Um,” Izuku says, and Katsuki thrashes backwards, rolling onto his side.
“Shut up.”
“Kacchan–”
“DON’T.”
Izuku huffs out a gentle, quiet laugh. “Kacchan, it’s fine.”
“No,” Katsuki mutters mulishly. This time, he rolls fully onto his stomach.
Izuku settles behind him. Half on top of him, one leg slung over and wedged between Katsuki’s. He’s still hard against Katsuki’s hip, because he didn’t shoot his load after three goddamn seconds.
An aftershock rocks through him and Katsuki twitches, trying to ease his groin back so his oversensitive dick isn’t rubbing so directly against the sheets below him.
“Can you go again?” Izuku asks.
…
Katsuki shoves up onto his elbow and twists around to glare at him.
“What?”
Izuku’s eyebrows arch. “It’s no big deal if you can’t.”
“I don’t–” His gaze drops as he glances down at himself. “Maybe?”
“What, you never go two rounds in a row with yourself?”
Katsuki stares at him. “No??”
“…Oh.”
“Who has time for that?”
Izuku awkwardly clears his throat. “I think most of our classmates probably. The way they talk.”
“I don’t listen to those losers.”
“Kacchan…”
“Fine, I don’t listen to them when they talk about perverted shit.”
“It’s not perverted!” Izuku lets out a somewhat exasperated breath. He squirms a little like he can’t help it, nudging forward into Katsuki. Looking for some kind of friction probably because Katsuki just left him hanging like an asshole. “Can I, uh… Can I try something?”
That gets him a wary look. Katsuki squints at him, trying to suss out what’s going on in that potentially depraved mind of his, but he comes up blank. “Try what?”
“If I tell you, I feel like you’re going to say no,” Izuku practically whines. He’s also flushed red to the tips of his ears, which is so suspicious. “Come on, please??”
Katsuki ignores the insistent prodding at his shoulder from Izuku trying to get him to lie back down, instead gesturing toward where Izuku’s damn near dry humping his hip. “I can just jack you off.”
“No! No, I’m fine, Kacchan – let me take care of you!” He brightens. “It’s your birthday, so let me really take care of you.”
Another moment passes with Katsuki just side-eyeing the shit out of him, but he finally relents.
“Fine.” He settles onto his stomach again, arms folded under his chin. “Don’t do anything weird.”
“Uhh, no promises,” Izuku says, sounding far too eager. What the hell.
He clambers over the back of Katsuki’s legs, straddling his thighs. His dick ends up so fucking close to Katsuki’s ass in that position, which is – unfair. It just makes Katsuki crave the unknown, makes him a little TOO intrigued and interested.
Izuku grasps his waist, fingers massaging into him, and for a second Katsuki wonders if Izuku has suddenly decided they don’t need lube after all. Then he ducks low to press a kiss between his shoulder blades and Katsuki stops thinking anything at all. He lets Izuku’s motions lull him into a relaxed state, softening under his touch, idly humming a content sound. Izuku keeps moving lower, kissing along his spine as his fingers trail up and down Katsuki’s sides.
Katsuki’s eyes crack back open when he reaches the top of his ass. He peers blearily at the headboard, waiting. Curious despite himself when Izuku pauses.
And then, without warning, Izuku tugs at his hips and hikes his ass up into the air.
Excuse him the fuck what.
Katsuki goes still, eyes utterly round now.
He stops breathing when Izuku kneads into the muscle of his ass.
“Izuku,” he starts, voice wavering and uncertain, but the nerd is apparently a man on a mission. Focused on one singular goal, which might be all well and good if Katsuki knew what the hell the goal was. It involves his ass, apparently! Which is fine, and Izuku’s hands feel good no matter where they are on his body, but this stupid position is…
A lot.
He feels like he’s on display or something.
He feels vulnerable, which is unnerving and weird and turns his breathing shallow. It’s almost dizzying, and yet he finds himself moving easily when Izuku shifts to kneel in between Katsuki’s legs and urges him to spread his own knees further apart. Wide, so wide, probably baring fucking everything.
Izuku palms the meat of his ass and Katsuki’s cheeks flare hot.
Then Izuku fucking pries him open and Katsuki’s soul just about leaves his damn body.
“Izuku,” he says again, louder this time and with a hint of urgency, but Izuku ignores him as he leans forward, bends down, and swipes his tongue directly over Katsuki’s hole.
The startled yelp that bursts out of him is unlike any sound he’s made before in his entire goddamn life.
He lurches forward in pure surprise, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the headboard as he twists around to pin Izuku with a wild-eyed look.
“Are you fucking nuts?” he hisses, scandalized. “THAT’S what you wanna do?!”
Izuku nods like people go around licking each other’s assholes every day in polite society or some shit, holy fuck. “If you want,” he says simply, and Katsuki just boggles at him.
“I…” God. He doesn’t even know. Like, he’s never considered himself some kind of innocent in any way, really, but he suddenly can’t help wondering if maybe he should’ve paid more attention all those times Kaminari was trying to share his disgusting-ass internet porn with the rest of them. Katsuki shakes his head. “How does that not gross you out?”
“I mean…we just bathed, like, two hours ago.” Izuku shrugs. “And nothing about you grosses me out, Kacchan. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything!”
“Not fuckin’ uncomfortable,” Katsuki mutters, which is actually mostly true. Sort of.
He’s really more just…nervous.
And that’s annoying.
Being nervous about doing sex things was never supposed to be an issue for him. First time bullshit or otherwise. He doesn’t GET nervous!
Also, it’s just Izuku.
Well – not just Izuku, it’s fucking huge that it’s Izuku, but also it’s IZUKU.
Katsuki trusts him.
More importantly, he wants to be the person Izuku tries this sort of shit with. He wants them to experiment and learn together.
Even if it’s a little embarrassing. That, at least, he’s pretty sure is a normal thing to feel in this kind of situation.
Embarrassed but wanting. Vulnerable but willing. A little awkward but so fucking turned on.
“Okay, just…” He jerks one shoulder in some kind of half-shrug. “Do it, fuck, I don’t care.”
“Really??”
“Yes,” Katsuki snaps, still red-faced. He turns back around to bury his head against his arms. Ass lifted in the air, knees still spread.
His dick hangs heavily beneath him, blood rapidly pooling in it when Izuku’s tongue finds his hole again. He jolts, wheezing out a surprised breath even though he knew it was coming.
There’s nothing in the whole fucking world that could prepare him for the feel of it, though.
Izuku’s tongue flattens against him, hot and wet and gently massaging. He teases around the rim, dipping shallowly inside, and Katsuki’s toes curl against the mattress. Sweat pricks along his skin and he finds himself widening his legs without having to be asked. Izuku’s not even touching his dick, but the arousal that floods through him anyway is all-encompassing.
He forgets to be embarrassed, instead moaning loudly into his arms when Izuku breaches him again. Shoves his tongue in and then licks back out.
Shitfuckgod. There’s NO reason for it to feel as good as it does.
Katsuki pants, his hips rolling backwards into Izuku’s face. He feels Izuku gripping his cheeks, holding him open so he can attack his ass with renewed vigor. Dragging over his hole again and again and again in slick, molten strokes. Pushing in, making Katsuki want more. So much more. In, out, in, out. Izuku makes some kind of ungodly slurping sound and drool drips down Katsuki’s perineum. He’s sure his dick is leaking onto the mattress as it bobs with every thrust and twitch and shudder of Katsuki’s body.
Everything’s starting to lock up as the pleasure builds and builds and builds. It’s unhurried this time but insistent. Steady. A slow-burning fire that spreads outward from his gut and licks up his spine.
“Hahhhh,” he groans, teetering right on the edge, needing something to push him over. “Fuck, Izuku – Izuku.”
Izuku presses his tongue against him, hard, closes his mouth and sucks and then dips into him again. At the same time, he reaches between Katsuki’s legs to close a hand around his dick, giving him one quick stroke, two, three. He swipes his thumb over the head and Katsuki keens.
“Ah, holy shit, fuck, right there, come on–!”
Izuku moans against his ass and the vibrations send a shock straight through to Katsuki’s core.
Release hits him, bulldozes through him entirely, wracks his body and makes him come with a gasping cry.
Something warm and slightly sticky splashes against the inside of his thigh and he’s pretty sure it didn’t come from him. And yet, for some reason, he finds it so ridiculously hot that it makes him feel insane.
He collapses face down on the bed, chest heaving as he sucks down ragged breaths of air. Izuku rolls onto his back and, after a moment of struggling to wrangle his soul back into his body, Katsuki musters up the energy from somewhere to do the same. Clumsily flopping over, away from the wet spot beneath him, he ends up half plastered against Izuku. Shoulders stuck together, skin slick with sweat. He feels shaky everywhere, his limbs are like jelly, and there’s still drying spunk from earlier smeared all across his stomach.
Fucking god.
“You’re insane,” he forces out, voice creaky. “First time, my ass.”
“First time, and yeah your ass,” Izuku says faintly. He slaps his hands over his face, muffling an embarrassed, needy sound. “Your perfect, perfect ass. I’ve been thinking about doing that forever.”
Katsuki’s doomed. He’s pretty sure his face might just be flushed permanently red for the rest of his life. He can’t seem to cool down at all. “Insane,” he repeats. “Fucking – I didn’t even know… Izuku.”
“Get used to it.” Izuku has the gall to reach out and pat him on the knee. “I had access to the internet way too young and Mineta is my dorm neighbor. I have so many ideas, Kacchan.”
“Holy shit.”
“We can take it slow, though.”
Oh sure, slow. Like he didn’t just sloppily eat Katsuki out mere minutes after confessing for the first time.
Katsuki’s head spins.
“Um… So, this is kind of why I never let myself stay in your room,” Izuku sheepishly admits. “At U.A.”
“What, afraid your tongue might find its way into my ass in the middle of the night?”
Izuku makes a sound like a pile of consonants just had a traffic accident in his mouth. “Not specifically that,” he says, strained. “But…I mean, sort of! I never wanted to wake up with some kinda…” He flaps a hand toward his groin. “Situation.”
Katsuki squints at him. “Everyone gets morning wood.”
“Not everyone gets it because they can’t stop dreaming about their best friend bent over the teacher’s desk,” Izuku mutters.
Fucking hell.
Great, now he’s gone and put that image in Katsuki’s head, too!
Also, Izuku totally just called him his best friend, and the way that sends a flurry of butterflies swarming through his stomach is SO dumb.
They’ve literally touched dicks now and Katsuki’s excited the nerd thinks they’re BFFs or some shit?
Ridiculous. Moving on.
“You came, right?” he checks, even though he’s fairly certain he knows the answer.
“Mm-hmm.” Izuku stretches his legs out, his back arching for a moment as he releases a happy little sigh. “Couldn’t wait, you sounded too good.”
Ugh. He doesn’t want to think about all the stupid-ass noises that kept involuntarily spilling out of him.
“You gotta let me actually DO something next time.” Katsuki glances over at his softened dick and reaches out to poke at it just because he fucking can. Izuku squeaks and bats him away, making him snicker. “Instead of jerking off all over my leg.”
Izuku turns pink. “Next time?”
“Obviously next time, don’t be fucking stupid.”
“So there’s definitely going to be a next time??”
“YES, Deku.”
“Wow. Okay!” Izuku bites his lip, practically vibrating with poorly constrained joy. He’s the most obvious nerd in the history of ever and Katsuki never wants him to change. “Oh man, I’m really glad you got in my bed tonight, Kacchan.”
“Yeah, well.” He glowers up at the ceiling like it’s somehow to blame – which it kind of is, in a way. Since it’s part of the dumb house. “Could’ve had three nights of this if the damn safehouse had decided to cooperate and be a small-ass dump like Sparky and Scotch Tape had.”
Izuku snaps his head around, grinning wide. “So you did want to share with me!”
“If that’s not the most obvious thing on the entire fucking planet right now, Izuku, then I don’t know how to help you.”
“I knew it,” he says softly, settling onto the pillow again and looking all happy and stupid and vindicated. “Hey, Kacchan?”
“What.”
“Happy birthday.”
“Hnn. …Thanks.”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Katsuki looks at him.
Izuku arches his eyebrows back.
“Yeah, nerd,” Katsuki says. “I wanna be your boyfriend.”
* * *
“Heeey, they’re back!” Kaminari cheers when they enter the dorms the following afternoon. “How did it go? Did you all fail or did Blasty actually manage to stay quiet for once?”
“He did not,” Todoroki says heavily, looking like death warmed up. Katsuki shoots him a quick glare, but who even knows what the fuck he’s going on about.
“I was quiet enough,” he snips. “We passed, didn’t we? No one fuckin’ spotted us.”
“What was your house like?” Sero asks over the back of the couch. “Anyone get stuck sharing a bed?”
“Nope!” Izuku says cheerfully. Unlike Kirishima and Todoroki for whatever fucking reason, he’s had a pep in his step all day. “There were two beds in each room.”
Kirishima grumbles incoherently for a moment, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. “Really thin walls, though.”
…
…Oh.
Well, shit.
Also, oops.
…
Eh, whatever – still fucking worth it.
FIN