In the six months since they’d been fucking, they had never kissed.
The locker room had long emptied, cleared of their third-year classmates, with only the musky air of dank and dirty laundry rising to the ceiling.
Huffs of sticky, humid breath passed from one parted mouth to the other, their lips brushing errantly as they sucked in each other’s rampant desire. The sweat-slick slap of Katsuki’s quickening hips, punctuated each time with Izuku’s cries and gasps echoed the tiled walls. The back of Izuku’s head impacted against the fragile mirror again and again, crack crack crack. His thighs quivered from sitting on the sink, Katsuki’s arms hooked beneath each damp knee, hiking Izuku’s legs up and apart as he fiercely pounded into him like the building was about to collapse upon them any moment.
They wouldn’t have noticed if it had.
Izuku’s nails had long sunk into Katsuki’s shoulder blades, bloody crescents trickling blood down his back, much in the same way the excess lube seeped from his aching ass and onto the porcelain sink. The force of each thrust slammed the small of his back against the faucet, his shoulders and head against the mirror, shrieks of pain tearing through his limbs, even as tidal waves of pleasure drowned out the discomfort.
Swollen, leaking dick untouched and bobbing against his stomach, Izuku could only pull Katsuki in closer, his voice parched and needy.
“Kacchan, I’m gonna –“
Katsuki’s growl silenced Izuku with a shock, just as he leaned in to clamp his teeth onto Izuku's lower lip and tug. Copper flooded Izuku’s mouth, and then Katsuki’s cock was pummeling him with a force that burned, and filled, and fit him like nothing and no one else could.
Izuku didn’t know who shot off first, but they came near in synch, a mess of shouts, hands grappling for each other, cum slick between their bodies. Katsuki released Izuku’s mouth in the midst of their shudders, his lips tilting in, searching –
Izuku turned his head.
Katsuki’s brow dropped to Izuku’s shoulder, Izuku’s face forced into the hot, damp crook of his neck. Inhaling deep, Izuku smelled only Katsuki. Fire and blood and sex.
Izuku remembered when he didn’t smell that way. But that was a long time ago.
“We’re gonna be late,” Izuku said, scrunching his legs between their bodies so he could close his knees. Now that the endorphins had run out, his back hurt like hell, but that wasn’t something necessary to share with Katsuki. “And I need a shower. You too.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki said, pulling away, his eyes roaming everywhere but near Izuku, probably searching out where his clothes had been flung. “You’re fuckin’ rank. Take care of that.”
“You’re not so fresh yourself,” Izuku said, wincing as he cautiously slid off of the sink. Sure, he’d had worse, but they’d literally just come out of a training session where Aizawa himself had used him as the test example for the class’ challenge – and, thus, had promptly destroyed him. So, maybe today hadn’t been his best day to be fucked on an unforgiving piece of metal and porcelain.
Without sparing each other another a second glance, they both made their way to individual shower stalls and did their thing. Hissing a little as the hot water and soap stung his open cuts and sores, Izuku frowned up into the spray with his eyes shut.
They were maybe getting more reckless than in the beginning of third year. If anything, the wild, almost violent desire they enacted on each other should have been dwindling by now – not increasing exponentially.
Though, who was to say? None of this had been planned.
After a particularly horrific run-in with a villain while on internship patrol, both Katsuki and Izuku had been left bed-ridden and barely alive. It had been one of those nights, when they’d both healed enough to be mobile, that Katsuki, of all people in this world, had climbed into Izuku’s hospital bed.
The Thank-Fuck-We-Aren’t-Dead Sex had started then, and had never really stopped.
Izuku had later analyzed it as a logical release for two teens, growing towards adulthood, with such a sheer amount of mental and physical trauma, that there had to be a safe way to release their stress. A safe way to affirm that they were still alive, still human, and not just Heroes who hurt and saved, hurt and saved.
“Ugh,” Izuku said to himself as he stepped from the shower and began to towel off with movements made sluggish by his no doubt bruised back.
Yeah, he could certainly confirm that he was alive right now.
“You fuckin’ complainin’ over there?” came a brash holler from the locker portion of the building. “Swear to fuckin’ God, if anyone ever knew what a damn cry baby you are –“
“Everyone knows that,” Izuku said blandly, tying his towel around his waist and rounding the rows of lockers.
This year, it had become easier to go verbally head-to-head with Katsuki. They’d been through so much together, spilled their guts on so many occasions – to each other verbally, and for each other physically, that the fear Katsuki had once instilled in Izuku was simply something to be flicked aside when it snuck past Izuku’s defenses.
Katsuki’s sharp tongue had mostly become something Izuku could handle. On a good day, anyway.
“Wow,” Izuku said, visibly impressed as he approached his and Katsuki’s lockers. “You got ready fast.”
Katsuki raised his pale eyebrows, glancing up as he buttoned the length of his wrinkled dress shirt with thick, scarred fingers. The depth of his gaze always reminded Izuku of the Blood Moon, shaded from deep crimson to bright amber, and sunset blood red.
Izuku had once read that the Blood Moon symbolized the upheaval and disarray of human consciousness.
That was Katsuki all over. Heck, Izuku too.
“Yeah, well,” Katsuki said, his sneer immediate and toothy, “Not everyone here daydreams their way through life. I could hear your creepy mumbling in the shower from over here, you fuckin’ freak.”
Izuku could feel his face heat up at that, but he simply turned away and opened his locker to dig through for clean boxers. Underwear in one hand, he rummaged with the other for deodorant.
He had a split second of his senses alerting him to an approach, but Katsuki was faster, pinning him against the lockers with his hot, hard body. Large hands slammed on either side of Izuku’s ears, and the force of Katsuki pressing into him pushed Izuku’s face right into the darkness of his own open locker.
Katsuki’s nose brushed the nape of Izuku’s neck, sending goosebumps flying across his skin. Even his dick twitched in interest.
“Mmm,” Katsuki murmured into Izuku’s skin. Izuku wondered if he was even conscious of the noise. “’Magine I messed you all up for class now? You’d have no time to shower again. You’d just have to walk around all day, feeling my cum drip down your legs, knowing this –“ Katsuki’s hand crept under the towel, his palm squeezing the generous curve of Izuku’s ass, “Is all mine.”
Izuku swallowed hard, thankful that his face couldn’t be seen. That the hunger, the acceptance, the love could not be seen. The words froze him in place.
I already am yours.
Katsuki just couldn’t know it. Not when their ‘relationship’ was constructed on casual sex, thrown insults, and unrestrained rivalry. This was what had been desired of Izuku on that night in the hospital – and this is what he would give.
He wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of Katsuki anymore. Not when he was the one person Izuku needed to surpass in this life.
“Hey!” Katsuki’s voice rang out hostile and coarse, his free hand bunching into a fist and punching the locker – through the locker door – and bringing out a yelp and a jump from Izuku. “Are you fucking ignoring me, stupid little Deku?”
“N-no,” Izuku said, his face burning in the relative darkness of his locker. He couldn’t turn around. Not when Katsuki would see –
A large hand snuck around, grabbing Izuku by the jaw, and turning him so he had to look over his shoulder.
Katsuki paused, the sharp slant of his eyebrows softening, his gaze narrowing as he met Izuku’s pleading, honest eyes.
“Don’t you fuckin’ look at me like that,” Katsuki said, sounding deep and choked.
The fingers that held Katsuki’s jaw tightened, held him firm. Katsuki’s sandy lashes dropped low, his attention fixed on Izuku’s mouth.
Hearting thrashing in his chest, Izuku swallowed hard, unable to look anywhere but at Katsuki. There was only Katsuki – only ever had been. His stomach jumped and dropped as he watched that intense expression lean in, lips slightly parted.
“No!” Izuku said, squeezing his eyes shut tight enough to see stars. “Don’t.”
Katsuki stopped, utterly still and quiet. The silence was more deafening than any of his battle cries.
“What did you just say to me?” he said, his voice just a rumble of thunder on the horizon, threatening a storm.
Izuku opened his eyes, his mouth thin and tight, his eyebrows low.
“Don’t do that. Kissing me.”
There was a beat of silence, and Katsuki’s expression flicked to something Izuku couldn’t recognize, and then –
Harsh laughter as Katsuki pulled away, using his hold on Izuku to shove his face back none too gently.
“Kiss you? You? Jeezus fuck, dude, you are delirious if you think –“ Katsuki turned and roughly tugged on his shoulders while coughing sharp laughs to himself. “Like I would. I’m already gettin’ what I want. Why the fuck would – I mean, fuck, Deku, you got some shit to work on.”
Katsuki never showed his face as he collected his things and evacuated the room in long strides. The door slammed behind him enough to make the building quake.
Mostly naked, and utterly cold, Izuku turned, pressed his back to the lockers, and slid to the ground. Painfully fisted hands rested on the ground as he looked to the ceiling with watery eyes.
He would be the first to admit that he most definitely had some shit to work on.
If they kissed, Katsuki would know. He wasn’t dumb – not even a little. He would know.
He would know because Izuku would have it written across his face.
He wouldn’t be able to hide that he loved Katsuki.
In the six months since they’d been fucking, they had never kissed.