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Tricycle

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Katsuki woke to what he was fairly certain to be his favorite sight—Shouto Todoroki, pro-hero Icy Hot, completely naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, and bent over in the early morning sunshine pouring in through the windows. Golden light spilled over Shouto, illuminating an endless terrain of the valleys and peaks of lithe muscles that moved smoothly just beneath the skin. The red of his hair looked like fire, his left eye catching the light so that it looked like a sapphire. The brightness of the light washed out his scar, nearly making it invisible, which made him look more…vulnerable, somehow.

Katsuki let out a tired mumble as he snuck his arms around Shouto’s bare waist and buried his face in the muscles of Shouto’s back. He could hear the amused huff of laughter that escaped the other’s mouth.

“Care to repeat that?” Shouto asked.

Katsuki turned his head to the side, cheek pressed to the skin right above Shouto’s spectacularly toned ass.

“Fuck off,” he said, closing his eyes against the blinding morning light. “I said: don’t go.”

He was being clingy, he knew. And sentimental, and cheesy, and every other adjective he’d probably die before admitting to, but this morning was different. He felt sleepy, and warm, and, honestly, who wouldn’t melt at the sight of Shouto Todoroki, naked and washed in sunlight on the edge of their bed like an honest-to-god-Adonis.

“I have work,” Shouto said with a roll of his eyes.

“Who fucking cares?” Katuski said, squeezing Shouto’s waist even tighter.

“How responsible,” Shouto said, but he still put up minimal resistance as Katsuki dragged him back into the bedsheets.

Katsuki let out a victorious cackle as he rolled the two of them until Katsuki was straddling Shouto across his hips. Katsuki rolled his hips and a small, pleased smirk found its way to Shouto’s mouth, hands wandering up to trace the lines and shapes of Katsuki’s own well-defines abs.

“You seem awake now,” Shouto said, letting amusement slip into his voice.

Katsuki grinned wolfishly as he leaned down to brush his lips against Shouto’s with a ghost of a touch. As he did so, the chain around his neck fell forward, the gold ring that was strung through sliding down to cling against the matching one that rested on Shouto’s chest. The necklaces were the safest way to wear them, they’d decided after a good bit of trial and error (the traditional way no doubt leading to a lost finger with their particular line of work). At first, Katsuki had practically scoffed at the idea of something as sentimental as rings. It’d taken Shouto nearly a month to convince him to agree to the idea, and nearly another month to find a support item company that could create chains that were indestructible to most forms of destruction or stress. Now, Katsuki would lose his head before taking off his ring.

Katsuki’s lips trailed along Shouto’s jaw until he could bite at his earlobe.

“Fuck me like our honeymoon, baby,” Katsuki growled into Shouto’s ear, grinding his hips down more for emphasis.

He could hear Shouto’s breath hitch, his hips rolling up to meet Katsuki’s, hands flying up to grip at Katsuki’s sharp hipbones. A satisfied grin claimed Katsuki’s face—it wasn’t easy to rile Shouto, so accomplishing it so soundly was a talent Katsuki was profoundly proud of. Katsuki was already half-hard, anticipation coiling in his gut, ready to continue to pull at Shouto’s strings until he came apart beneath him.

WHEE WHOO, WHEE WHOO

Shouto sat up so fast, Katsuki nearly fell off him. They both turned to look at both their phones on the bedside table, their screens lit up red and alarms screaming at them. An emergency call.

FUCK,” Katsuki spat.

“Looks like we’re both working today, babe,” Shouto said, giving Katsuki a slap on the ass as he pushed the other off him.

***

It was a disaster emergency—a big one. Some sort of earthquake, or a collapsed office building. Either way, the local disaster heroes were all occupied or overwhelmed, because they’d very quickly called in all pros within the area, which was exactly why Katsuki was flying through the city alongside his husband right now instead of having amazing morning sex.

“Son of a bitch,” Katsuki hissed as the two of them arrived at the disaster scene.

Shouto didn’t say anything, but the grave look on his face agreed fully with Katsuki’s sentiment.

They’d been told about one collapsed building, and what they were now facing was at least two partially collapsed office buildings fringing a massive sink hole sunk into the center of the city. A pipe had burst somewhere, spewing a column of water into the air. The air was thick with dust, massive hunks of concrete littered the streets. Car alarms were screaming, on the same frequency of the emergency vehicles that were already shrieking towards the disaster zone. Emergency responders were already crawling over the scene, pulling people from wreckages and from beneath stone.

“Katsuki,” Shouto said, a stony tone to his voice.

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, heavily.

Disaster scenarios like this were far from Katsuki’s forte. His quirk was more suited for causing disaster rather than fixing it. He needed to keep his head level and remain cool. If he let his anger get the better of him on such a precarious field, he’d mostly like end up getting someone killed.

Katsuki reached out, letting his fingers brush Shouto’s, letting the brief contact ground him. Then he leapt forward, propelling towards the civilians Shouto had pointed out, trapped on a fifth-story landing that the responders hadn’t reached yet.

Things progressed without issue for most of the rescue operation, Katsuki shuttling civilians and responders to safety, Shouto providing structure to whatever crumbling pieces of building he could with his ice. They’d checked in with the responders in charge on the scene, offering their first aid training where it was needed. Shouto was particularly skilled in helping those in the middle of panic attacks come down, and Katsuki had grown to be fiercely protective of any civilians he’d rescued, baring his teeth at responders and EMs to keep them at bay if he saw his charge needed space to calm down more than they needed stitches.

They were very close to the disaster zone being declared clear of all civilians when someone came running into the first aid tent, a limp body cradled in their arms, a child that was unconscious and still breathing, but clearly in immediate need of serious medical attention. Katsuki took the child without hesitation. With all the rescue helicopters dispatched, he was clearly faster than any ambulance left available to get this kid to the hospital.

Katsuki spared one last glance towards Shouto, still in the field, calmly working with responders to pull people from the rubble, before blasting off towards the hospital.

It’d taken less than ten minutes for Katsuki to get to the hospital and made sure the kid was handed off to the right doctors. It’d taken nearly another twenty for Katsuki to be wrestled onto a bed in the ER, nurses and doctors insistent on treating the lacerations and burns he’d managed to acquire amongst the wreckage of the sink hole—something he’d only agreed to after making sure there were only one or two more civilians to be rescued at the disaster site. It’d taken another fifteen minutes before Shouto had finally showed up.

Katsuki had heard them before he saw them, the sounds of civilians outside shouting Shouto’s hero name.

Katsuki was on his feet before he even saw Shouto stumble through the hospital’s doors. He was practically dragging a nearly unconscious body behind him. The head of forest green haired-Deku was unmistakable. This didn’t make any sense—he didn’t remember seeing Deku at the sink hole, didn’t remember hearing that he’d been called to the scene.

At the sight of them, Katsuki threw off the nurses and doctors that had been smothering him and his bleeding injuries. There was a collapse of one of the remaining walls of the office buildings, he could hear Shouto telling a nearby doctor, Deku had shown up to the scene last minute and had been caught in the collapse, Shouto managing to drag him from the rubble.

Relief flooded Katsuki at seeing Shouto unharmed, ready to either hit or kiss him, but definitely ready to drag him back to their apartment to finished what they’d started that morning as way of celebration. But half-way to the two of them, Katsuki drew up short.

Shouto was hunched under the weight of Deku, who was very clearly just barely holding on to consciousness, his hero suit torn to shreds and blood covering half his face. His eyes seemed to be sliding in and out of focus, on the edge of passing out. But the shocking amount of blood Deku’s head wound was producing wasn’t what stopped him—no, that wasn’t what Katsuki was staring at. What he was staring at was the very obvious and very vibrantly green handprint on Deku’s exposed forearm, and the matching silvery-mark on Shouto’s palm that definitely had not been there this morning.

It took Katsuki what felt like an eternity to realize what he was seeing, to put two and two together. And when it finally clicked, a white-hot fury flared up in him like nothing he’d ever felt before. It consumed his every thought, his palms already popping with tiny explosions and a ringing in his ears that drowned everything else out. Shouto saw the change on Katsuki’s face immediately and hurriedly passed the sagging Deku off to a nearby nurse.

Katsuki stormed towards Deku, only stopped by Shouto catching him in the chest and holding him back, muttering something to Katsuki that he was sure was meant to calm him, but Katsuki couldn’t hear him, couldn’t focus on anything other than the matching soulmarks burned into Deku’s arm and Shouto’s palm.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Deku!” Katsuki screamed as Shouto continued to hold him at bay as he watched doctors usher Deku away down the hall. And that was really all he could say, because his mind was still reeling from the fact that his husband shared a soulmark with Izuku-fucking-Midoriya.