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Izuku was drenched.
It was just water, he’d said, nothing to worry about. Just a little water, not a problem.
Katsuki swallowed hard. Yeah. Should not be a problem.
Except Deku was a little stupid, and a little wet, and a little bit made for Katsuki.
Katsuki directed his eyes to the sky. Fuck. Fuck.
Izuku was wet, and it was just water. It wasn’t a problem, except that his suit material was thinner in the summer months, and it was sucked onto his skin in his drenched state. Hugged his body like a jealous lover, bunched in ripples in dips and plastered flat over curves.
Meaning his soft little tits were on display, framed in the wet fabric like a sweetly tempting prize.
Oh, and of course, he was wet, so Deku was cold. Hard little nubs poked out darlingly, real centerpoints, right where the middle of Katsuki’s palm would press if he held his pretty tits.
Fuck. Dammit. Katsuki needed to chill the fuck out before he popped a boner in public.
Izuku ruffled the back of his hair sheepishly at a medic. His pecs shifted under unwilling fabric stuck stubbornly to them with the movement. Katsuki looked away.
He made it to the agency locker room without incident somehow. Maybe he could just rub one out in the showers again. God knows how many times random incidents left Izuku debauched and clueless of how lewd he looked. But maybe that was just Katsuki’s dick talking. He winced at the memories of staying back and angrily rubbing himself raw, shift after shift.
Before Katsuki even got out of his suit, though, Izuku sloshed in, because of course he did. He mumbled hello, clearly tired from the fight.
He stopped a few lockers down from Katsuki, fiddling with the door. Katsuki just barely managed not to groan out loud.
Up close, his areolas were visible, little dark rings a pedestal for impossibly hard nipples tenting the dark green of his suit. Why the hell was the fabric this thin?
“Kacchan.”
They looked so soft… so pretty and perky and just the size of one of Katsuki’s hands. Maybe smaller. Maybe Katsuki could fit his entire mouth around one.
“Kacchan.”
Katsuki whipped his head up. Ah, shit. He was staring.
Katsuki cleared his throat. “What, nerd.” It came out raspy and disgusting, like he’d just gargled rocks.
Izuku’s face was unreadable. “Were you staring at my chest?”
“…No.”
“Yes?? You w—“ Izuku paused.
“Kacchan. You’re staring again.”
Katsuki flicked his eyes up to meet his gaze. Well. Fair enough.
Fuck it, Katsuki thought.
“Izuku,” Katsuki said, stepping forward. Izuku eyed him warily, growing pink.
“…Yes?”
Katsuki’s hands were outstretched. Izuku glanced between them and his face, up and down and up and down.
“You have a crush on me, right?” Katsuki said simply, even closer. Izuku blushed a bright red.
“Kacch—“ Izuku cut off abruptly with a hitched breath. His head whipped down, eyes wide and fixated on Katsuki’s hands cupping his tits.
“Wh— I— K—“
He seemed incapable of speech. He also didn’t move away. Katsuki hummed, a little delirious, and squeezed.
This time he did groan aloud. Izuku made a choked noise.
Izuku’s tits were exactly as soft as they looked. His rock-hard nipples pressed perfectly into the dip of Katsuki’s palm, like an itch being scratched, and Katsuki was in heaven.
He barely paid attention to Izuku’s face (red, so red, wide eyed and glassy, pink little mouth gaping), instead looking at how perfectly his pretty tits fit in his palm, moldable as clay, squishy and perfect. Katsuki sighed. He could die here and be happy.
He moved his left hand outward to grip Izuku’s pec from the side, spreading his fingers just so, just enough to hold his ribs a little too. God, it felt amazing. He pressed down with his right hand and repeated the movement. Unintentionally, the hard meat of his palm brushed over Izuku’s nipple.
And Izuku gave a quiet, choked, unmistakable moan.
Katsuki amended his earlier statement. He could not die happy until he heard that sound again.
He grinned a little meanly, looking directly into Izuku’s eyes as he thumbed over his hard nipple with purpose, a hard pass followed by a teasing brush, a pressing rub, rub, rub, pinch and pull. Izuku’s knees buckled and Katsuki caught him with his other arm around his waist, right hand still plucking Izuku’s nipple like a new toy, pinching and squeezing and pulling.
Izuku was making a lot of noises. Katsuki couldn’t really hear them over the roaring in his ears. He decided to be merciful and give his poor nipple a break, opting to squeeze a palmful of his tit instead while he sat on the bench behind them and maneuvered Izuku onto his lap. He thinks Izuku might have croaked his name.
He reaches around to unzip Izuku’s suit and salivates at the creamy freckled skin that reveals itself. His shoulders are clammy where Katsuki slides over them, chilled from the damp fabric, warming quickly where Katsuki passes his hands over on his way down. He nearly cums in his pants at the sight of Izuku’s bare tits, one nipple reddened and inflamed and abused. They’re just big enough to sink a little with gravity, unbearably soft.
His left hand free again, he gives Izuku’s other side the same treatment, slipping the nipple between the knuckles of his fingers while he gropes and squishes and squeezes, palming it, pinching it between the knuckles of his middle and forefinger to pull out and let go, watching it bounce.
He squeezes both tits in his hands, just because he can. It satiates something deep inside him. He looks up at Izuku’s face and— is he crying? His eyes are glassy and overwhelmed. Katsuki kisses his cheek, since he’s being so good, and squeezes his palmfuls again.
There’s movement on his lap. Izuku— he just rolled his hips into him. What a perfect little slut.
Izuku whines. Katsuki might have said that out loud.
He ducks his head, eye-level with this perfect chest, shifts his hands down to Izuku’s waist. They fit perfectly there, too.
Katsuki slow-blinks at the tits in his face, a little dazed. He’s unsure if he’s dreaming. He’s making the most of it. Izuku squirms, and— that doesn’t help, he dreams of that too, has since he was fifteen.
Izuku’s pretty tits are begging for him. They look so bare without any hands on them. Katsuki is resourceful. He can fix that. His mouth feels hungry anyways, drool gathering.
He glances up, once, and bites.
Wide-mouthed, he fits his lips over a perfect swell, eyes rolling back at the baby-soft skin filling his mouth, pressing at his gums. The hard nipple on his tongue that he plays with, earns a full-body jerk for. He sucks languidly, and Izuku sobs, arching into him, pressing deeper into his mouth so sweet. He pulls at the other nipple so it doesn’t feel left out, long pulls like he’s milking him, until he switches sides. This time he kisses first, brings it into his mouth like something delicate, first onto his tongue before his lips close around. Katsuki makes out with Izuku’s pretty tits with his hands holding him in his lap by the waist, drinking from him, savoring the impossible softness in his hands and mouth, the way every barest brush over a nipple had Izuku crying out.
“Kacchan…”
Katsuki finally hears him. He lifts his head off with a pop! and straightens, unashamedly close to Izuku’s face, chewing over his own too-warm swollen lips.
Izuku is trembling. “Please, Kacchan…” he says, and Katsuki is a good person. He listens.
“What, Izuku,” he prods, as gently as possible, the rocks in his throat from earlier just as harsh now.
Izuku whines. “It’s not even,” he complains, needily, and Katsuki watches with a slack jaw as Izuku pushes his own tits together with his hands, sweet indents forming where he presses too hard.
“Together, Kacchan,” Izuku explains, and Katsuki is helpless to follow, putting his own hands over Izuku’s and bending forward to worship the little cleavage, the nipples that almost touch. They probably could touch, if Katsuki tried a little harder. He presses his hands harder, and Izuku’s little nipples kiss, and Katsuki very nearly busts his brains out. He might have creamed his pants; he’s not really paying attention. He’s too busy sucking both of them into his mouth at the same time, kissing them too, adding tongue. Izuku is sobbing above him, rocking his hips restlessly below him, and Katsuki wraps his arms around his waist to pull him closer. Izuku holds his tits up for him like a good boy, hands framing just underneath like a corset, and Katsuki has at them, kissing and sucking with his eyes closed, indulgent.
Katsuki peels off with a sucking pop, watching the soft fat bounce and settle with deep-seated contentment pooling in his gut. He looks at Izuku’s teary face, the haze in his eyes.
“Can you come like this?” He asks him, voice punched-out with arousal.
Izuku moans something keening and desperate, grinds in his lap. He doesn’t know, but he wants to, he wants to. He’s gone nonverbal, sweet thing. Kacchan will help him. Katsuki tells him this, and Izuku makes a wounded noise like a sob.
Katsuki slides his hands up Izuku’s waist a little, marveling at the whorish slimness, the seductive dip of his spine and sides, negative space begging for Katsuki to fill in with his palms. Skin impossibly soft and cool to the touch until Katsuki rubs over it slow once or twice, then warm, fever warm, like Izuku is built to blush everywhere. Katsuki takes his time, dragging his hands up to where Izuku was tiniest, back down to where he was sensitive, fingertips reaching just above where his suit dangled undone. He dipped his fingers in lower, just to feel, pressed down with flat fingers right above where back sloped into ass just to feel Izuku spasm. All the while, Katsuki attempted to fulfill his earlier stray thought of fitting an entire tit in his mouth. He didn’t quite make it, but he got close, and the trial was clearly driving Izuku to madness. Katsuki wasn’t watching his teeth. Oops.
Katsuki idly traced the freckles crawling up the dip of Izuku’s spine with his mouth filled with fluffy softness, sitting back against the lockers with Izuku perched so prettily in his lap.
He brought his hands up Izuku’s sides, fingers splayed across his ribcage for a moment while Katsuki marveled at how his thumbs were only a few inches apart. He slid them up to replace Izuku’s in fitting his tits into the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. Izuku’s hands fell to his sides, dangling as he looked down to watch Katsuki’s hands. Katsuki pushed his palms up and over the easy give of Izuku’s chest, groping and pushing his tits together, then away from each other, then together again, in indulgent circles that had Izuku whining, at both the stretch Katsuki was forcing his tits into and the way his hard nipples rubbed against Katsuki’s rough palm, shifting against it with every motion, incessant and rhythmic and clearly making him loopy. Katsuki squeezed and pulled, towards himself this time, and Izuku jerked a little, hiccuping whines slipping between his fingers as he covered his face.
Katsuki tsked, and snapped at him. “Hands.”
Izuku removed his hands obediently, so so red, blushing brighter when his fingers bumped into Katsuki’s forearms on the way down.
Katsuki held a tit in each hand like he was bracing Izuku up, and rolled a thumb over each hard nipple, watched it flick back into place. Izuku’s legs tightened around him as he moaned. Katsuki did it again, watching his face this time. Rubbed little soft circles with his thumbs, like idling with a joystick. Round and round and round, just slow enough to not be fast enough.
Izuku’s eyes rolled back, and he swayed, pressing his chest deeper into Katsuki’s hands as he arched and tipped his head back with a hoarse groan.
“Tch.” Katsuki said, all at once pinching both nipples mercilessly and tugging. Izuku cried out and tipped his head forward with a lost look on his face.
“Eyes open, nerd. Watch.”
Izuku whimpered and squirmed, but kept his eyes open and focused like Katsuki told him too, and Katsuki looked directly into them while he played with his nipples. A tug. A soothing rub. A brush over with his other fingers, letting the nub sit in the webbing before a pull. Katsuki got the pleasure of watching Izuku’s eyes cross a little. Rub. Rub. Pluck. Pulling both at the same time, out to the sides, because Katsuki was a bit of a bully. Let his tits bounce back into place. Rub. Wide pinch, tug. Massage between two fingers. Twist. Rub. Flick.
Katsuki bent his head towards Izuku’s right nipple, his hand pulling on the other one, and, still holding eye contact, gave it the sweetest, most tender kiss. Barely pulled any into his mouth, only happened to flick the very tip with the tip of his tongue.
Izuku shuddered violently in his lap, legs sticking out and shaking as he came, hard. He cried with it, just like Katsuki had always fantasized he would. Katsuki kissed him through it, made out with his nipple, then the other, kinder than he had before, soothing. Izuku shook with aftershocks, pawed at Katsuki’s shoulders at the overstimulation, but still Katsuki took his sweet time to show each nipple the love it deserved. A nip followed by a flat tongue, pulled into a sucking kiss. Letting go with a pop just to let it bounce, and again, and a chaste kiss, and again, and a nibble. Fingering his other nipple all the while. Izuku heaved with a whine, and Katsuki watched with interest how his tits moved with it.
When he had his fill, Katsuki finally pulled off with a slow, reluctant kiss to each nipple, first the right, then the left, in goodbye. He stared at them forlornly for a second, then up to Izuku’s face to survey the damage.
Oh, Izuku looked gorgeous.
Flushed in a way that could only be described as obscene, panting, so red his very eyes seemed to be blushing, dazed and woozy as they were. Tear tracks kissed his cheeks, lips bitten swollen and wet and red. Wetness clung to his lashes, clumping them so prettily, and more tears spilled over as Izuku blinked in relief. Katsuki wiped his face with one hand, tutting.
“Messy nerd.”