Archive of Our Own

Snow falls silently on the mountain, covering pines in a freezing white blanket, and it muffles the loud music filtering through the closed door of the cabin that Izuku and his friends rented.

It was Sero’s idea, to take advantage of the winter holidays to go somewhere together; god only knows how much everyone of them is in dire need of a break anyway.

With the increasing amount of hero work and internships, anxieties and traumas have piled up faster than the snow collecting outside; having a moment to unwind and just breathe seems like a dream. They can pretend to be like every other person in their late teens, even if it’s just for a couple of days.

A crackling fire is burning inside the cabin, but everyone seems to be warmed up already, thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol everyone’s drinking. There’s obnoxiously loud pop music, somehow covered by the cheers and squeals of the girls sitting on a plush carpet next to the fire. Katsuki groans: they’re playing a game of truth or dare as they sip colorful drinks through silly straws, and the things they’re shrieking are so goddamn stupid he takes another long swig of beer just to drown out their comments about who’s fuckable and who’s not. 

“KATS, C’MON, SIT HERE WITH US!” Mina drunkenly hollers, and he rolls his eyes so hard they go completely white. 

“Yeah, no, thanks, I’d prefer getting hypothermia out there,” he grunts, pointing to the frosted window.

Ochaco blows raspberries at him and sticks out her tongue. “You’re no fun.” 

“Yeah,” Mina butts in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And besides, we already know what your answer’s gonna be.”

She glances at the other side of the room where Izuku is laughing out loud, playing an alcoholic version of some stupid board game with Tokoyami and Iida, but before she even has time to realize what’s happening, Katsuki squats down to grab a pillow and throws it at her face, earning a pained grunt from her and outraged protests from the other girls.

“Shut up or I’ll make you, Pinky, I swear to god.”

He downs the rest of his beer in one go and stomps away, choosing the bathroom as the safest hideout for the moment.

The bright light hurts his eyes. He squints, splashing cold water on his face. 

They arrived at the cabin that morning, but he’s been in a shitty mood since they stepped inside and he found out he had to share a room with Deku.

He’s happy to be there and to take a moment to rest, but having Izuku - and the bright light he seems to be radiating - this close to him feels like torture, something so painful that is feels like acid burning away at his insides. 

He’s trying his best to keep his distance from him after everything that’s happened after the war, even if it’s almost impossible. Katsuki died for him, in a way, and Izuku dipped into the darkest parts of One For All to defeat Shigaraki after seeing Katsuki’s body on the ground: their lives are intertwined even tighter now, and he often finds himself looking for Izuku like a lighthouse in the dark, running a hand through his hair or pinching his cheek just to feel he’s there, he’s alive.

Now , he sees him laughing, finally serene despite the scars and the pain and the trauma, and all that Katsuki can think about is “ he’s happy, so why should I ruin this for him?”

Katsuki knows he doesn’t deserve him, and he thinks he never will. Not after everything he’s done.

Izuku deserves someone better. Someone who’s gone through anger management and actually stuck to it, instead of blowing things up as a pathetic emotive response. Someone who’s not possessive, and obsessed, and so emotionally constipated that it took him more than nine years of bullying to realize that the burning feeling in his chest wasn’t rage but love .

Katsuki has more than accepted that his feelings are meant to stay like that, hidden and suppressed forever, so that Izuku can finally love and be loved like Katsuki thinks he deserves, but having him so close without the walls of UA to keep them separated does something horrible to his feelings.

Water drips rhythmically in the sink, and Katsuki stares at his resigned expression. He can do this . Just two more days and they’ll be back at the dorms, and he can try to put some distance between him and Izuku again.

He leaves the bathroom with a sigh, heading toward the kitchen where Shouto is not so sneakily making out with Sero in a corner. Great , just what he needed for his morale.

Ignoring them, he steals another beer from the fridge and slams it closed with a grunt. Hanta pulls away with a wet pop from Shouto’s lips and glares at him, hand still tangled into two-toned hair.

“Oh c’mon! Why don’t you relax for once?” He complains, rolling his eyes. “Even class prez is doing that, so quit the Grinch mood and chill, dude!” 

Katsuki glares back with rage boiling behind his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s fucking easy for you to say.” He snaps, gesturing with his head towards Shouto, who looks unfazed, if not slightly pissed his make out session is being interrupted by words.

“Oh, you’d have the same thing if you just-“ Hanta starts, but Katsuki growls in his face like a dog and slams his fist on the table next to him, making him flinch. “Don’t,” he barks, before quickly stomping out of the kitchen.

He throws himself on the couch and pops the beer cap off with his teeth, ignoring the puzzled looks people are throwing at him. With a huff, he puts his feet up on the table and grabs a controller; he chooses to unleash his anger on a fighting game and soon, his competitive side wins, and he finally gets distracted enough to forget about the whole situation for a minute.

He’s about to start the next game when Sero’s voice, sounding slightly pissed, catches the attention of the whole room. 

“Ladies, gentlemen and gentlethems,” he ceremoniously starts, “I’m happy to see the majority of you are enjoying this well-deserved time off. But, seeing that some of you ” and Katsuki ignores the pause and the angry stare he gets, “are definitely not relaxed enough … here.”

He places four joints on the table in front of the couch, and a collective cheer rises from his classmates. 

“Please use them accordingly, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He laughs, and spins back on his heels to hook an arm under Shouto’s, walking him up the wooden stairs with another rolled up joint nestled behind his ear. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ll go back to our room to smoke one too… and if you happen to hear any moans coming from upstairs, no you didn’t!” 

Boos and gagging sounds mix with laughter from the group, and the couple disappears on the second floor. The rest of their friends are quick to pick up one of the remaining joints, those sneaky fuckers. 

Before Katsuki can move, a heavy weight plops on the couch next to him and he catches the smell of fruity alcohol in the air. Izuku flashes him a smile and leans his head back on the headrest with a relaxed sigh.

“I needed this so much,” he dreamily says, and Katsuki scoffs.

“What, raspberry gin?” He mocks him with a punch to the shoulder, and his stomach squeezes at the way Izuku laughs and the freckles on his cheeks squish together. Not fair.

Alcohol is slightly messing with his feelings - not enough to cause trouble, but enough to tuck Izuku’s green locks behind his ear, and that’s a fucking no no, but the other curls into his touch and smiles, and from the dopey grin on his lips Katsuki realizes he’s a little tipsy.

“I meant some time to decompress, but sure, raspberry gin works too I guess.”

“I can’t remember the last time we did something like this,” Katsuki honestly ponders, and Izuku taps a finger to his lip in thought.

“Oh, it’s been at least a year, for sure. Wasn’t it when we all taped Mineta to the ceiling?”

Katsuki huffs a laugh at the thought, amused. “Yeah, that.”

Izuku leans his head against his shoulder, and Katsuki thinks he’ll never get used to that, the privilege of Izuku fully trusting him, of him looking for his touch instead of recoiling away from him after everything that’s happened between them.

Luckily, Izuku interrupts his train of thought: he asks “wanna smoke?” and picks up one of the joints that Sero skillfully rolled up for them, and Katsuki knows it’s a bad idea, he knows , but he’s tired of his own thoughts, so he nods.

“Let’s go outside, I don’t wanna reek of weed for days.”

“Anyone comin’?” Izuku asks as he turns around, but everyone else is already smoking inside, so he laughs and picks up his coat as Katsuki follows.

As soon as they shut the door behind them, silence falls immediately; just the softest thumps of the falling snow fill the silence, and only then Katsuki feels completely relaxed, stress melting away from his bones in real time as he stares up at the night sky.

They sit outside on the porch, and of course Izuku, like the caring fucker he is, has brought a blanket with him. He drapes it over them both, covering their shivering bodies, and immediately presses himself against Katsuki’s side as he trembles, a heat-seeking human missile that seems to have Katsuki’s poor heart as the only target.

It’s so quiet between them, but it’s not awkward; their silence is rehearsed, well-known, an old friend and an enemy altogether. 

Soon, the weed smell wafts up Katsuki’s nostrils, familiar and burning as Izuku lights the joint up and takes a few, slow puffs, inhaling without a rush and smiling as he exhales rings of thick white smoke. He holds the joint up, but Katsuki hesitates, his scarred, mangled arm slow to react in the freezing cold, his fingers numb after Shigaraki crushed everything into a pulp during the war.

That’s the kind of vulnerability he hates the most, but he knows he can let it out when there’s only Deku to see it, because he’s the one that truly gets it. He curses, then manages to get a good enough grip to finally take a long drag. He keeps it there, burning into his lungs, until he finally lets out the smoke through his nose, slumping back on the bench with a satisfied sigh. 

He tries to ignore the way his fingers shake when he passes the joint back, but Izuku notices it. He doesn’t say anything, though, he doesn't look at him with pity in his eyes: they both are scarred, pained, they’ve been pieced back together more times than they can count, so there’s no space for that; he simply inhales, exhales and smiles, taking his time to smoke as he looks up at the sky and blabbers on about light pollution and how he doesn’t see stars in the sky anymore.

Katsuki can’t help the warmth akin to fondness that spreads through his scarred heart; he’s quick to blame the weed, but he knows the truth.

He tries to take the joint back from Izuku, but his fucking fingers twitch and spasm because of the cold so he misses a couple of times, and he almost drops it. Frustration must really show on his face, because Izuku, with eyes half-lidded and red already, smiles at him with a softness Katsuki really doesn’t deserve. 

“Fucking hell, I’m freezing my ass out here,” Katsuki blurts out as an excuse because fuck , he can’t stand that, and he pulls the blanket away to stand up, ready to go back inside; but Izuku pulls at his his own bottom lip like he always does when he’s thinking, or nervous, and says: “wait, Kacchan, come here.” So he stays.

Izuku looks at him, green eyes impossibly bright under the warm porch light, and takes a long drag out of the joint, then he wraps his knobby fingers under Katsuki’s chin: he can’t even begin to process that, because Izuku’s thumb is slightly pulling his bottom lip down, sending heat through his whole body, and when he says “open your mouth,” Katsuki does.

Izuku’s face is suddenly close, so close , too close, their lips almost brushing, and then he slowly blows the smoke out from his mouth. Katsuki is so stunned that it takes him a few seconds before his brain catches on and he realizes he has to inhale; his lips part - shit, they’re so fucking close ! - and he does, taking in the smoke Izuku is letting out, his whole being buzzing and on fire.

He can’t do this. His heart is beating so fast he’s feeling nauseous. He can see every single freckle on Izuku’s cheeks, and his pink tongue resting on his bottom teeth, and the desire to kiss him is so fucking strong he digs bruises into his own thighs to stop himself.

He lets out a shaky breath laced with thick smoke, his eyes wide in surprise. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing, now, but who could blame him when his best friend (and love of his life) just shotgunned weed with him? 

Izuku is still quiet, but flashes him a dopey smile (like what he just did is the most common thing in the world, no biggie) then brings the joint back to his lips, hollows his cheeks and takes another long hit.

Katsuki’s so taken aback he can’t even speak now. He feels on fire, excited, watching his Deku be a confident little shit that does things like these with such ease that it makes him wonder, with a pang of burning jealousy, if he has already done this with someone else.

Again, Izuku gets closer to his lips, tilting his head to the side, and has the audacity to close his fucking eyes and blush like it’s his job. Katsuki slowly inhales, and before he even knows it, he’s pressing their lips together, shivering in the way Izuku gasps under him and his fingers tangle into Katsuki’s hair like a lifeline that can ground them both in the storm they’re caught in.

Katsuki feels like an idiot, stiff and frozen like a deer in headlights as he tentatively moves his mouth against Izuku’s soft lips and hopes he’s doing it right. It’s funny how he has fought in a war, and yet he still hasn’t kissed anyone. 

Panic sets in immediately when he realizes that he’s doing exactly what he has sworn himself not to do; he tries to pull away, but Izuku doesn’t let him. His mouth is warm, and bitter from the weed, and his wet tongue is now sliding against Katsuki’s and holy fucking shit - he wasn’t even sure Izuku liked men, but by the way he’s responding to the kiss, he’s pretty sure about it now.

His brain screams at him but he chooses to drown every noise out, except for Izuku’s low, imperceptible whines that rattle his very core and set him very much on fire. When they part to breathe and Katsuki glances at Izuku’s soft, enamored expression, though, ice runs through his veins, and the well-known litany of “he deserves someone better” makes his head spin in circles.

He jumps up, almost tripping on the blanket that is now wrapped around his ankles, and makes a run for the door. He almost considers blasting himself up in the sky to escape with his quirk, but it’s still heavily snowing, it’s the middle of the night and it’s fucking freezing, so he forces himself out of that idea.

His heart shatters when he hears Izuku scream “wait, Kacchan!”, but he doesn’t look back, panic coursing through his blood.

He barges inside so fast the door slams against the wall, and he ignores the worried looks and the startled screams that echo through the living room to throw himself up the stairs in a frantic rush. He rips his jacket off as his chest aches and his breath comes out in uneven, short pants.

He can’t believe he fucking did it. He’s lucky enough that Izuku is finally trusting him, and he goes and fucking kisses him because he’s like a goddamn teenager who can’t control himself.

When he slams the door of his room and locks himself inside, not bothering to turn on the light, a bitter laugh escapes his lips when he looks at the silhouette of the bed sitting in the middle of it.

It didn’t look like much, that morning: after all, he and Izuku did grow closer and closer after the war ended. Sometimes, when the nightmares and the flashbacks were too much for one of them to handle, they searched for the other to hold onto for comfort in the middle of the night; laying in the same bed after exhausting missions or sleepless nights of constant panic attacks had become the norm, lately.

Now, though, after thousands of imaginary brick walls between them just came crumbling down - demolished by Katsuki’s selfishness, the idea of sharing a mattress after they’ve kissed (and he’s heard Izuku whine , goddamnit) seems like one big joke and an impossible fucking task.

He leans his back against the door and flattens his palms against it - as if that could stop a Full Cowl Izuku from barging in, but he tries anyway.

His hearing is not so good anymore (thanks, explosion quirk) but he could spot Izuku’s footsteps in a crowd, because he’s 50% killing machine built with muscle and 50% clumsy thickness. He actually feels them through the floor more than he hears them, and his hands ball up in fists, tensing. How the fuck do people deal with this? He just wants to hide away or explode his own face because he’s sure he’s not gonna be able to look Izuku in the eye ever again.

A knock, and then a soft “…Kacchan?” comes muffled through the door, and he buries his head between his knees. He feels tears prickle the corners of his eyes, but he shoves them back forcefully.

“Kacchan, please, can you open the door?”

“Nope. Fuck off.”

Great start, ten out of ten.

The doorknob giggles, and Katsuki turns around and stops it with his hand. On the other side of the door, he can hear another soft “Kacchan, please...” coming from Deku, and his already shattered heart breaks into a thousand more pieces. He hears a soft thump , and guesses Izuku has leaned his forehead against the door.

“Kacchan, please, let’s talk about this. Don’t close yourself off from me…”

Katsuki huffs a humorless laugh. “What is there to talk about? I’m just…” he stops, because he can feel his voice breaking, “…I’m just a fucking idiot.”

“Kacchan.”

Katsuki doesn’t move.

“Kacchan, open this fucking door.”

Oh, he made Izuku swear. He would have found that funny, if he wasn’t at the lowest point in his life.

The seconds pass slowly, dragging by like molasses, thick and heavy. Then, a loud punch rattles the door on its hinges, making him jump.

“You’re a coward.” Izuku’s voice seethes with anger, now. “First you kiss me, and then you leave me there like an idiot wondering what the hell did I do wrong, and you run away from me!”

He can hear the tears in Izuku’s voice, and how it trembles when he grinds his teeth and grits out: “Fuck, was it so disgusting to you?”

Katsuki can't stand that a minute longer. He unlocks the door and rips it open, and seeing Izuku’s eyes brimming with tears is like a punch in the gut.

He wants to scream, and yell,and scare him away so he won’t come closer, but he’s weak; he averts his gaze and he lets him in without a word.

He's glad Izuku doesn’t turn the lights on: he doesn't have the strength for it. In the darkness, he can pretend that things aren’t happening, that what just exploded between them isn't real, so it’s easier like that.

“It wasn’t.” He rasps suddenly. Izuku looks at him with pain and confusion plastered across his features, so he repeats himself in a husky, broken voice: “It wasn’t disgusting to me.”

He’s still standing in the middle of the room, muscles tense and face twisted in a pained scowl. Izuku is now sitting on the bed in front of him, one hand fidgeting with his sweater while the other wipes away a stray tear still falling down his cheek.

“What I wanna know is why ,” he murmurs wetly.

“…What?”

“Why… Why did you kiss me?” He’s looking up at Katsuki now, and he’s making him feel small and frail and broken, something that only Izuku’s teary eyes can achieve. He doesn’t even know what to say, because the pit of feelings he’s kept sealed in his chest is so large, so deep, he’s afraid he’s gonna rip at the seams like a patched-up doll if he speaks.

Silence stretches between them again, thick and uncomfortable. Izuku keeps staring at him, but Katsuki’s mouth is shut tight, his teeth clenched so hard that the other can see the muscles in his jaw tick. 

After more silence, Izuku lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Okay, scratch that. Tell me why you ran away, then.” Katsuki can see he’s fighting hard to keep a calm, controlled voice, but he’s failing. “I don’t understand what’s going on… y-you’re the one who kissed me, but then you ran and you locked yourself in here a-and now you say it wasn’t disgusting so-”

A sob wracks through his chest. Green lighting crackles and then subsides across his skin as he grunts a frustrated noise and punches his own chest, trying to control his raging feelings.

Katsuki would love to wrap his arms around him, kiss the top of his head and comfort him, but his fucking brain decides to short-circuit instead and the only thing he can do is yell, because if there’s one thing his family’s taught him, it’s that.

“Oh, sure, it’s my fault! Because you shotgunning weed with me it’s the most normal thing in the world, hah?!” 

Izuku’s eyes shoot open in shock and a crimson blush, visible in the dark, covers his cheeks as he stammers “wha-what do you mean?! T-this has nothing to do with my question!”

Katsuki has to clench his fists to avoid the small pops of his quirk that threaten to escape, and he still can’t stop them. He’s confused, angry, disgusted by himself and his lack of self-control, but an evil grin spreads on his lips anyway, and he feels like a bully all over again. His voice is angry and mean when he says: “Oh, it does! Let me ask you the same question: why the fuck did you do that?!”

“B-because I wanted to help! I thought of a way to help you smoke, a-and I was tipsy already, and-”

“Bullshit!”

Izuku stands up with a face twisted in anger and his eyes wide in shock. “ Don’t you dare ‘bullshit’ me , Kacchan! You're the one who’s lying!” 

Katsuki scoffs. “No, YOU are! Why the fuck did you do that!?”

He leans closer and they’re almost chest to chest now, but Izuku’s not the same Deku he was before, no. He pushes Katsuki with all of his strength and screams: “because I fucking love you, you idiot!”

Everything stops. The tears, the small explosions, the yelling. Katsuki’s fallen backwards and it’s now sitting his ass on the floor, looking at Izuku with his mouth open in shock. He can’t move. 

Izuku loves him?

He runs a hand over his face and stares at the sliver of moonlight that filters through the window, feeling so relieved and yet so desperate at the same time.

Izuku furiously rubs the tears away, nose all red and splotchy, and lets out a short, hysterical laugh. “I can’t believe I said it,” he murmurs to himself, then he slides on the floor, resting his back against the bed; he stares at Katsuki with teary, impossibly green eyes, and he looks genuinely terrified.

Katsuki opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, the fight completely drained out of him. 

“You love… me?” He then asks, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Izuku looks like he’s about to throw up from anxiety as he nods, so he crawls over next to him and sits by his side, his knuckles brushing against Izuku’s knobby ones. The other doesn't move away, so he clears his throat as he stares at the door like a last, feeble attempt at running away from his feelings.

“You asked me why I kissed you.” 

He feels Izuku nod more than he sees him, but his presence is there, grounding, safe . Katsuki takes a deep breath in.

“I’ve been dreaming about that my whole fucking life.”

Izuku gasps and grabs his hand like a reflex, squeezing it tight. His shaky voice is tight with emotion when he asks: “... So why did you run away?”

Here it comes. 

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you.”

Izuku lets out a short, surprised laugh, but he sounds angry.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

It’s Katsuki’s turn to let out a bitter laugh, now.

“Yeah, I’m just the perfect guy for you, right? Your hero in shining armor who tells you to take a swan dive off th-…” He can’t even fucking say it, so he chooses to punch his own thigh instead. He feels Izuku cup his cheek with a warm hand, and he has to bite back a sob. Jesus christ, he hasn’t cried in fucking years, so why do all the tears threaten to come out now?

“Kacchan. I’ve changed from that scrawny, quirkless kid, but so did you.”

Izuku moves his thumb in slow circles, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping Katsuki from breaking apart.

“You’ve been saving my life ever since.”

Katsuki painfully turns to look at him: he looks ethereal in the moonlight as he smiles at him, and he’s so beautiful it almost hurts.

“I feel so fucking selfish… I shouldn’t even think about loving you, and yet here I am,” Katsuki spits out before he actually realizes what he’s just said and fuck, it’s too late now, and it feels so goddamn scary, yet liberating.

He watches as a fat, shiny tear rolls down Izuku’s freckled cheek.

“I fell in love with that strong, amazing piece of shit that burned my notes to a crisp, and later beat my ass black and blue at Ground Beta,” Izuku confesses with a smile, “the one who threw himself onto razor sharp tendrils to save me from Shigaraki, the one who found me and brought me back when I ran away, and the one who literally died and got back for me.”

His hand is still lingering on Katsuki's skin, and he leans into it like the touch-starved man he is. 

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Kacchan,” he then whispers, “so I think I deserve to be selfish too.”

Izuku leans closer and tilts his head to the side, but stays still; he looks Katsuki in the eye and asks: “Can I?”

No more words are needed.

Katsuki rests his hand on the back of Izuku’s head and leans in, feeling the soft touch of Izuku’s lips on his own, and he’s pretty sure his heart is being stitched together for a second time, because this somehow feels like healing.

It’s a shy, inexperienced press of tight lips in the beginning, but they soon learn the other’s rhythm, their tongues moving together in a slow, careful dance.

They kiss gently, like they’re both afraid something’s gonna break if they move too quickly, but before they know it they’re all over each other, their breathing faster and heavier as their hands roam and tug and squeeze.

Katsuki doesn't really know how he ended up lying on the hardwood floor; it’s cold under his back, but he doesn’t mind, not when he’s being pressed into it by Izuku’s lean, stocky body.

The nerd looks like he’s enjoying himself, humming into Katsuki’s open mouth, and Katsuki’s pretty sure he can feel his erection throbbing against the zipper as he subtly presses himself into Katsuki’s leg. Just the thought of it has him gasping for air and gritting his teeth to contain a low groan.

Izuku is hard for him ? This truly feels so much like one of his wet dreams that he almost pinches himself to see if he snaps out of it.

He boldly sneaks an arm through their bodies to press his hand against Izuku’s erection and watches in real time as Izuku realizes what he’s doing, his green eyes widening as he sucks in a short breath and throbs against his palm. Katsuki’s dick is so hard he’s almost embarrassed by it.

“Bed?” He finds the strength to rasp, and Izuku breathlessly nods. Katsuki digs his heels on the ground to stand up, but there’s a shift in his gravity when he’s suddenly picked up and thrown on the bed by Izuku who somehow effortlessly lifts him, and oh wow, somehow his dick is even harder now. 

The wooden bed frame creaks as Izuku slides between his parted legs and cages him between his arms, diving right back into the kiss. They’re clumsily rutting against one another, each short thrust being followed by a pant into the other’s mouth; Katsuki feels like he’s drowning, and maybe he is, because his heart beats so fast he’s feeling out of breath, but he doesn’t care. 

His fingers slip past the hem of Izuku’s stupid Christmas sweater as he subtly tugs it upward; Izuku gets the hint and he pulls away, sitting back to slide it off. 

When Katsuki extends a hand and turns on the lamp on the nightstand, the vision hits him with so much force he almost feels dizzy. He can watch, now, as Izuku slides his clothes off: no more hiding away in the locker rooms to sneak glances at his body, no.

Izuku mutters something under his breath as he gets momentarily stuck with his head trapped by the fabric, struggling to take the shirt off, and it makes everything so real and tangible that Katsuki’s stomach flips in circles.

Izuku steps down from the bed to slide his jeans off. The room is cold, and their skin is covered in goosebumps.

Katsuki allows himself to stare at the wonderful sight that is Izuku shivering in tight All Might-themed boxer briefs before he takes them off, his cock bobbing against his taut stomach. Katsuki swallows thickly. He's so turned on, his dick is starting to hurt. 

Izuku breaks the silence. “Are you sure?” he asks him as he climbs back on the bed, and Katsuki never wanted to punch him in the face as much as he does now.

“Of course I’m fucking sure, what the fuck do you mean?” 

“I mean, m-maybe you’re too high, or… or drunk, and you’re gonna regret this in the morning, a-and I don’t think I’m gonna be able to survive if you run away from me, so I just wanted to-”

Katsuki shuts him up with a kiss, grabbing him by the back of his neck, and he likes how Izuku goes pliant in his grip. 

“I’m sure, nerd. I’ve never felt more sober in my life.” He reassures him. “What about you?”

Izuku laughs, and he looks visibly relieved.

“OFA apparently makes me a heavy weight when it comes to alcohol or weed, so yeah, I’m cool.”

“I know that. I was asking about… y’know, all the rest.”

Izuku smiles at him with fondness.

“Never been so sure.” 

Katsuki watches as his stocky fingers wrap shakily around his belt buckle and then work to unzip his jeans; he’s suddenly sweating more than usual, so he masks his anxiety by asking “You ever done this?”, putting on his best cocky smirk, like he doesn’t care about the answer - when in reality, it’s one of the things that’s eating away at him.

Izuku smirks a little, and Katsuki envies his confidence.

“Nope. Saving myself for Kacchan, I guess.”

Oh. That’s unexpected . So fucking unexpected Katsuki almost bolts for the door in a moment of panic, because that unlocks too many feelings inside of his scarred chest, and he’s not ready, he’ll never be, when it comes to Izuku.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles, but his words are cut short by the way Izuku suddenly hooks his fingers on his open jeans and pulls down.

Izuku ignores his words and asks: “And you? Have you ever done this?”, and Katsuki can feel the uncertainty in his voice.

He’d like to play it cool, to pretend he’s done something, but he can’t, and he won’t. 

“Nah. Never.”

Izuku stills for a second, then throws himself at him and closes the distance between their mouths, like he needs to breathe the same air Kacchan’s breathing or else he won’t make it. Katsuki’s glad no more words are needed as he melts into his touch with a sigh.

The rest of his clothes are pulled off, and Izuku eagerly buries his head into his neck, inhaling deeply before slowly making his way to the scar between Katsuki’s plush pecs. He places a long, soft kiss on top of it, waiting until he feels the heartbeat under his lips, his scarred fingers leaving soft caresses all over his body.

It’s such an experience for Katsuki to watch Izuku’s green curls brush against his skin as he leaves kisses in a descending trail, that he’s having a million of wonderful internal crises-

but when Izuku presses his lips against his throbbing erection, every coherent thought flies off the window, and he just wants to scream “ oh my fucking god” out loud because it’s the best thing in the world. A second later, when Izuku’s soft lips part and he wraps his fingers around Katsuki's swollen cock to guide it inside his wet, hot mouth, that’s a whole other mind-shattering revelation.

If Izuku is inexperienced, it doesn’t feel like it by the way he expertly curls his tongue around his dick and hollows his cheeks. He takes his time, like he wants to savor the moment. His movements are slow, deliberate; he goes all the way down, then back up, blinks and looks up through his lashes, and Katsuki has to stop him before he embarrasses himself, because he’s about to cum in the next three seconds if he keeps looking at him like that. 

Izuku laughs a bit, but Katsuki can see he’s nervous too, by the way his fingers shake.

He feels the overwhelming urge to touch, to caress, to hold him close, and suddenly he’s shifting upward, his palms skimming against the freckled skin because he wants to feel, to taste Izuku too.

“Let me,” he begs, and Izuku whispers “okay”, laying down on the pillows and spreading his legs to give Katsuki access.

Suddenly, Katsuki’s hit with the reality of it all when he flattens his tongue on the red, velvety soft tip of Izuku’s cock and slides it down his throat, humming involuntarily because he’s dreamed about this for so long. It tastes like clean skin and Deku, and he could drown in it forever for how much he likes it. He pulls off to lick a long stripe from the base to the tip because he feels like he needs to, and his ego puffs up with the way Izuku shudders.

A deep breath and he sinks back again, testing the limit of his very untrained gag reflex, one hand loosely wrapped around the base of Izuku’s cock while the other is buried in the supple, hot flesh of his thigh.

The room is freezing but they’re both burning hot, the warmth of their palms almost unbearable whenever they make contact with the cold skin. 

Izuku’s breath becomes faster, and he quickly taps his fingers on Katsuki’s shoulder to make him stop.

It’s Katsuki’s turn to laugh now.

“Man, we’re both lame, two pump chumps, huh?” He grins, somehow relieved Izuku’s feeling as stimulated as he is. 

"Come up here," Izuku begs and Katsuki's quick to do that, resting his blonde head of hair on the pillows too. 

They kiss again. It's a bit disgusting for both because they taste like cock and spit, but they get over the thought rather quickly when Katsuki flicks his tongue on Izuku's lower lip. The unhurried, leisurely-paced making out takes a bit of the edge off, and they both feel like they can finally breathe again, once the thick fog has dissipated.

Soon, hands roam the expanse of their muscled bodies slotted together. It’s a mind blowing experience for Katsuki when he looks up, and he can see the same lust that’s burning through him, reflected hazy and glossy into Izuku’s green eyes. 

Katsuki loves him so much his chest hurts. He mouths at the soft, warm skin of his neck, suppressing the urge to mark him up with hickeys so he can finally tell the world this nerd’s all mine.

He just wants him, in every way, a need so strong his throat goes try and his eyes burn. 

Everything in his life that yearns for control is already crumbling to pieces, burned away by Izuku’s hands shakily skimming against his skin. 

His cock keeps throbbing insistently. He subtly shifts his hips forward to rut against the plane of Izuku’s abs, desperate, biting back a groan.

When Izuku touches him, the relief is instant. A whine escapes his mouth and he slaps his hand over it, so embarrassed he actually thinks to hide away in the bathroom for a second; but when Izuku’s thick fingers trails lower and lower, sliding between his cheeks and brushing against his hole, he can’t stop the cut-off, surprised moan that echoes loud in the room. 

Izuku, flushed red and overwhelmed, is breathing heavily against his lips. Suddenly, he shifts and pulls away. He murmurs “w-wait,” and the little stammer is so cute, Katsuki’s heart squeezes.

He watches as Izuku steps off the bed and rummages through his bag, then comes back with a bottle of lube. The bed frame creaks when he climbs on, covering the shocked noise that escapes Katsuki’s throat. His eyes go wide and he laughs, taken aback.

“Care to explain why the hell did you pack fuckin’ lube?”

Izuku looks at him like he’s the weird one.

“Because you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna go three days without masturbating, duh.” He deadpans, popping the cap open, and Katsuki doesn’t know if he wants to punch him in the face, laugh to the point of tears, or kiss him senseless.

“Jesus Christ, really?” He feigns indignance, pretending like he didn’t already have every intention to rub one out in the shared bathroom after seeing the stirrup leggings peeking out from Izuku’s travel bag.

“Just three words.” Izuku counts them with his fingers: “black tank top. Even in freaking winter! Are you kidding me?!” He shakes his head as he unconsciously runs his fingers over the thick, bulging muscles in his arms, like he’s shocked by the fact that he can finally touch .

There’s tension between them, a current of electricity running under their skin. It’s terrifying, and exhilarating at the same time.

Katsuki makes room for Izuku between his legs, pulls him even closer by the shoulders, and buries himself between his soft lips, because the feelings inside his chest are too much to handle now.

When Izuku’s cold, slicked fingers tentatively rub around his rim, he shudders in a moment of panic; a few deep breaths, and he relaxes into touch, willing to give himself entirely. It would be a lie if he said he hasn’t touched himself like that , but it feels entirely different, now that it’s Izuku; it's intimate, a bit embarrassing, and a thousand times more erotic.

Izuku’s gentle. Too much, maybe, like he’s afraid to break him, so Katsuki encourages him with small nods, breathy gasps, and short thrusts to meet his digits.

He throws his head back, moaning deep in his throat as Izuku works him slowly, stretching him more and more; he feels full, stuffed by three fingers. 

“You okay?” Izuku asks, and Katsuki responds with a long kiss and a pleased hum that vibrates against his lips. 

When Izuku slicks his cock and slowly pushes inside, it stings, but it’s a pleasant stretch; then the world goes white hot and burning for a second. They both groan, staying still for a few heartbeats, their eyes closed as they take in the pleasure. It’s pure bliss. It’s them , together.

The first long, drawn out thrust is already sending sparks through Katsuki’s body; he grabs Izuku’s neck with both hands and bumps their sweaty foreheads together, shivering.

His hands then move lower, skimming over the reddened, scarred tissue of his arms, and if it’s possible, that makes Katsuki love Izuku even more. He’s human , wonderfully imperfect just like him, with badly-healed bones, gnarly scars and stretch marks webbing across his thick, powerful thighs. 

Pushing back the tears that threaten to pool on his lashes, he grips Izuku’s waist and sinks his fingers into the soft skin there. He can feel Izuku's muscles clench under his palms with every thrust, and it somehow sets him even more on fire.

The pace is tentative at first as they learn their boundaries and what sets them alight: a bruising grip on Izuku’s plush ass, a tentative nip at Katsuki’s ear, feather-like brushes of wet tongue against the other’s lips. Katsuki just wants more, he wants everything Izuku can give him, because he’s so in love it burns.

Izuku makes sure he's not hurting, then hooks Katsuki's ankles on his shoulders and fucks him deeper, testing his flexibility and pushing his knees to his chest. At his angle, he hits something inside Katsuki that makes the blonde's eyes go wide: the moan he lets out is so loud, he's sure everybody knows, by now. He hasn't time to be embarrassed by it, though, because Izuku hits that spot again, and he goes almost cross-eyed.

His cock drips over his belly button, and he grips the bed sheets tight, then mouths at Izuku's collarbone to hide the cries that the quicker thrusts punch out of his throat and buries his face between his round, freckled pecs. The air smells like smoke, and it takes a while for him to notice it’s his hands heating up, threatening unconscious explosions he’s quick to stop by balling his hands up in fists.

Izuku looks so incredibly beautiful over him, forest-green, messy hair sticking to his forehead, his big eyes watery and deep. Katsuki pulls him down for a kiss, straining to reach his pink, swollen lips, then mouths all over his body; when he licks and sucks on a nipple, the sharp “ oh !” that follows rings through his skull like a bell. Noted . 

Izuku is muttering praise and worship and " Kacchan, ah, Kacchan " into his skin, and his freckled cheeks are wet with tears; Katsuki would love to call him a crybaby and mock him for it, but when he blinks, he realizes he's crying too.

When Izuku's fingers wrap around his cock, Katsuki goes from a hundred to a fucking million. He's not gonna last, not when Izuku pumps him with a tight, spit-wet fist like that; he looks like he's at his limit too, anyway, by the way he's biting into his own bottom lip and squeezing his eyes tight.

Katsuki opens his mouth to say it , to tell Izuku every single thing hiding deep inside of him, but he feels like he’s choking on words. Then, Izuku slams harder into him and babbles “Kacchan , I’m sorry, I'm so close, I’m-” so he hooks his arms around him to keep him there, inside. Izuku tenses, then shudders, and watching the orgasm wash over him in real time, twisting his features in a blissful haze, is what does Katsuki in.

He rocks back to meet Izuku’s now sloppy thrusts and fucks up into his fist still tight around him, he whispers “ I love you,” and after a few more strokes his own orgasm hits him like a punch, winding him and stealing the air from his lungs - or maybe it’s Izuku’s words and kisses who take his oxygen away, but either way, he doesn’t care.

It’s a mess of limbs, sweat, cum and tangled sheets when they part, collapsing both on the bed with their faces to the ceiling, still riding the orgasm high. The lingering awkwardness bursts like a bubble as soon as Izuku turns to hug Katsuki, resting his head on his scarred shoulder and wincing when his hand lands in a pool of sticky spend on Katsuki’s abs.

“C’mon, go grab a tissue, nerd, I’m all gross.” Katsuki mutters under his breath, the usual anger missing from his tone. Izuku hums and nuzzles closer, ignoring the wetness on his fingers, but Katsuki nudges him off and offers “shower?”, so they step into the private bathroom.

When they come out a few minutes later, skin soft and pink, they fall back on the bed with a satisfied sigh, hiding under the covers. Izuku shivers and worms his way under Katsuki's arm, and the world somehow feels a brand new place to exist in, now that they found each other. 

Katsuki breaks the silence first. Anxiety is starting to bite a little around his chest so he asks: "Now what?" 

They can hear the faint thumping of music still coming from downstairs. Katsuki's pretty sure he can hear Shouto's moans as well, but for once, he won't say shit about it - because everyone else probably heard him , so fuck it. 

He watches as Izuku fidgets with his bottom lip between his fingers and pulls, something he does when he's in a loop of anxious thinking, so he puts a halt to that with a quick kiss that melts part of the tension into a soft smile. 

"Hey," he grunts, "stop it with the overthinking, nerd." He watches as Izuku does the exact opposite of what he just said, furrowing his brow further and picking the skin around his thumb. 

"I'm sorry, Kacchan, it's just… I still can't believe you love me."

Katsuki’s heart gives a painful pang, so he flicks Izuku's forehead and smiles.

"Fuck, I still can't believe you love me , dork, so I suppose we gotta accept this, huh?" 

There’s a shy nod, followed by a smile.

"What do you think the others will say? About us, I mean," Izuku muses, tapping his index finger against his bottom lip. Katsuki snorts a laugh through his nose. 

" Thank fuck , probably." 

Izuku's crystalline laugh warms him from the inside out when he says: "Yeah, you're right." 

As Katsuki absently traces circles on his freckled skin, he looks at Izuku and swallows the lump of insecurity lodged behind his throat. 

"This, us , whatever is it that we're doing… I want it all. I don't care where our lives will take us, I…" 

He pauses and looks away, staring at the wooded ceiling. 

"I wanna do this with you." 

Silent seconds pass, then Izuku swallows back a sob and smiles again.

"Me too, Kacchan.”

***

Izuku wakes up shivering. They fell asleep naked the night before, and he probably didn’t die of hypothermia only thanks to Katsuki’s body naturally radiating a shit-ton of heat, because the room feels freezing.

Bright light comes in from the window, and he looks outside to see the landscape covered in white, shimmering snow. It’s sunny now, but the cold still drafts through the cracks in the old cabin, and Izuku runs to the shower to warm himself up, ‘cause he can’t feel his toes.

It all feels surreal like he’s living his most recurrent dream, the one where he and Kacchan love each other and they kiss and…

He blushes at the memory of the previous night, and feels his own heartbeat pulse in his throat at the thought. He dunks his head under the scalding hot water and shivers, his mind replaying images of him and Kacchan on a loop that immediately threatens to make his naturally-occurring morning wood even more annoying; he’s almost tempted to sneak a hand between his legs to take care of it when he gets startled by the shower curtain being ripped open.

A very naked, very groggy Katsuki steps in beside him, eyes still laced with sleep and goosebumps all over his body. He grunts a noise behind his closed mouth and rests his forehead against Izuku’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist to get as much heat as he can, nuzzling closer to get under the shower spray.

“ ‘Morning,” Izuku shyly murmurs with a smile, “were you cold too?”

Katsuki mouths at his collarbone in response; his arms tighten more around Izuku, like he’s afraid he’s gonna run away if he lets go, so Izuku kisses his forehead and hugs him back, and he physically feels the tension melt from Katsuki’s shoulders.

“ M’not cold. Just wanted you close.” He grunts back, and Izuku forces himself to hide a smile. Who would have thought that Kacchan could be this clingy first thing in the morning?

He steals a quick kiss and hums happily to himself, then goes on to lather and rinse them both as Katsuki goes pliant under the warm water. Izuku can’t believe he can finally see this side of Kacchan as well, a hidden part of him that likes to be taken care of, to be loved, all soft edges and no loud yelling.

He lets Izuku witness this for the duration of the shower; as soon as they step out, he starts to grumble about the wet floor ‘cause Izuku forgot to roll out the mat, and somehow the world feels back to normal again. 

***

It’s late in the morning when they finish getting dressed. They can hear clattering and voices come from downstairs where the rest of the class is slowly gathering for breakfast, and Katsuki starts to get nervous about what they will say. His stomach grumbles from hunger, but he’s still hesitant, as if leaving would burst the bubble between them. Izuku seems to notice his turmoil, and silently grabs his hand before opening the door.

There’s a stunned silence as they walk down the stairs, the chit chat stopping as everyone takes in the image of their intertwined fingers (and probably the hickeys on Katsuki’s neck, whoops).

Someone gasps out loud, Ochaco squeaks “ oh my god, finally!”, and Izuku is pretty sure he can see money being exchanged between Hanta and Denki, but chooses not to say anything about it. Katsuki is ready to blast a hole in the wall, already on the edge from all of the attention, but Mina looks at him with a giant, knowing smile (the premise of a long series of future questions, no doubt) and says: “C’mon, Kats, help us with breakfast!”

As if someone snapped their fingers, the chatter resumes, everyone going back to their tasks and pretending like they saw nothing, and Katsuki is thankful the attention is not on them anymore.

Izuku smiles at him and drops on the couch with a yawn, so he grabs the eggs from the fridge and gets to work trying to save the sausage almost burning on the stove, barking orders left and right.

He keeps glancing toward Izuku: he’s surrounded by Shouto, Ochaco and Jirou, and Katsuki can spot a reddening blush already growing on his cheeks. Great, everyone’s gonna know everything before the sun even sets.

Mina interrupts his train of thought by stealing his spatula to stir the eggs.

“Congrats on figuring things out, Blasty,” she smirks, and Katsuki knows she’d love to laugh at him and say “ I told you so”, so he’s relieved when she doesn’t.

“Shut up,” he growls, but he can’t hide the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

They all sit down to eat a few minutes later, and Izuku is quick to place a kiss on his cheek, murmuring a “thank you for the food, Kacchan.”

The whole table emits a sound with various degrees of squealing, and Katsuki feels the tension spike and then finally drop, melting off his shoulders like snow under the sun, the lingering warmth of Izuku’s kiss taking it all away.

They're gonna be okay. More than okay, in fact, Katsuki thinks, as he rests his fingers on Izuku's thigh and squeezes, a sweet promise of more to come.