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Why did Katsuki agree to go on this goddamn camping trip?
Right. He was promised a hike. Many hikes. He hasn’t been hiking in years, and he loves hikes.
What he was not made aware of was the fact that, to get to said camping and hiking spot, he would have to squeeze himself and his ten other old high school classmates (they’re all goddamn, fully grown adults now) into Uraraka’s busted up minivan. The minivan has eight seats. There are eleven of them here.
He should have turned around the second he saw everyone standing outside that van.
But no, he hesitated. He watched as Uraraka climbed into the driver's seat with Iida getting in the passenger's side, then as Izuku, Kaminari and Mina all climbed into the very back row, and then as Todoroki, Kirishima, and Sero climbed into the middle row seats.
So there he was, standing outside the very full mini van (with Jirou and Tsuyu) and wondering where the fuck he was supposed to sit.
And then Jirou climbed over the middle row of seats, giggling as she sat in the back row on Mina’s lap, and then Tsuyu climbed over to Todoroki’s lap in the middle row, smiling politely, and things suddenly made sense.
“I am not sitting in anyone’s fucking lap,” Katsuki hisses into the car, because fuck no, he’s grown and big, and he would probably crush each and every one of them if he even tried it. “Someone switch with me. Right now.”
Sero groans, and he’s closest to Katsuki, sitting on the middle row seat right next to the open door. He shoots him a tired look, saying, “Man, just sit somewhere.”
“You wanna die?” Katsuki snaps, crossing his arms (maybe a bit petulantly) and glowering down at him. “I weigh more than you and Kirishima combined. I’ll crush all of you fuckers.”
“Are you calling yourself fat?” Kaminari snickers from the back row, then cuts himself off after getting a downright scalding glare from Katsuki.
Kirishima, bless his stupid, annoyingly logical heart, perks around Sero’s head, smiling as he says, “Midoriya could probably hold you without it being uncomfortable—" he glances to the back row, “—right, man?”
Izuku, sweet, bulky, dumbass-incarnate Izuku fucking Midoriya—who had been pretending to analyze the peeling upholstery of the van’s ceiling, or something, suddenly jerks like he had just been slapped.
“I—uh—I could?” He says, his voice cracking as he shrugs, looking over the seats to stare almost pitifully at Katsuki. “I mean, of course I can, but I don’t think Kacchan wants—"
Katsuki cuts him off out of courtesy. “No. I’m not sitting on his lap.”
The van goes silent. Katsuki clenches his jaw so tightly it might shatter. Izuku looks like he’s going to melt into his seat.
Izuku jumps up, banging his head into the roof as he fumbles out, “You know what, we can just switch, Kacchan—"
Mina reaches over Kaminari and grabs Izuku, slamming him back down into his seat. She groans, whining, “God, just sit down, Bakugou! I wanna get this party started!”
Katsuki's entire life flashes before his eyes. Again. Because he’s already died once.
Sitting on Izuku’s lap was the very last thing he expected to be doing with his life right now. That was the very last thing he expected to ever do with his life. He never thought he’d ever end up in a situation like this.
“We don’t have all day!” Uraraka calls from the driver's seat, fingers tapping impatiently against the wheel. “Bakugou, sit down!”
A chorus of ‘sit down’ erupts from the van. Every single fucker inside (minus Izuku, who’s now staring pointedly away from Katsuki) is chanting it. This is a set up. All of them must be conspiring against him. There’s no other reasonable explanation as to why nobody will give him their fucking seat.
“You’re all going to fucking regret this.” Katsuki hisses, low and dangerous, as he climbs into the van.
Izuku makes a startled squeaking noise as Katsuki clambers over the middle seats, very pointedly elbowing the people sitting there (and ignoring their whiny protests). He wedges between Kaminari’s legs and the back of the middle row, shuffling down, until he’s in front of Izuku.
Izuku smiles sheepishly up at him, arms up in the air in surrender as he holds his legs together—accommodatingly, as disgusting as it is.
Katsuki glares as hard as he can before he turns around and slams himself into Izuku’s lap. Izuku whines weakly, thighs tensing. Katsuki feels it.
This is mortifying.
Then Izuku whispers, almost like he’s figuring out a fact for one of his creepy notebooks, “You’re actually not that heavy.”
“I’m going to blow this whole fucking van up!” Katsuki shouts, as a few people start laughing loudly around them.
The car jumps to life, the radio blaring shitty pop music from Uraraka’s phone so loud Katsuki thinks his eardrums might pop. All the windows roll down, the cool night air slapping him across the face as he grabs the seat in front of him, gripping it like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality.
Iida, being the fucking mother he is, turns around from the passengers seat to look back at the rest of the peasants stuffed into this fucking minivan. The car slowly pulls out of the parking lot, then he shouts over the speakers, “I have snacks and drinks up front, please pass them around!”
Katsuki just groans and thumps his forehead against the seat in front of him.
Kaminari cackles, pulling out a water bottle—three water bottles—from under his seat, whispering, “And I’ve got the alcohol!”
Iida must not have heard, because he cuts his hand through the air, shouting again, “We will reach the first rest stop in an hour! The trip will take us four hours!”
Katsuki groans again, thumping his head harder against the seat in front of him, and ignores Todoroki whining, “Bakugou, stop hitting my seat.”
Katsuki also ignores how the music drowns out everyone’s chatter, how the snacks are passed around, how Kaminari passes around the alcohol like he’s a shitty dealer outside of a crappy high school.
Izuku still hasn’t moved. Or spoken. Or given any indicator that he’s alive.
Katsuki can feel him trying not to breathe too hard. His hands are hovering awkwardly in the air, not touching Katsuki or anything, like he’s scared that if he moves Katsuki will blow a fuse. His thighs are tense under Katsuki, his back pressed so close to his seat he might melt into it.
And that’s fine, because Katsuki is the same way. Leaning away from him, his hand gripping the seat in front of him, legs tense as his heels dig into the ground of the van to stop himself from swaying too much.
Iida suddenly shouts again, “Be warned, we’re going to be driving on country roads!”
Mina cackles loudly, cheering over the music, “It’s gonna get bumpy!”
“Just kill me now.” Katsuki grumbles, growling under his breath. A few people snicker at him, but then the music is turned up, and everyone starts singing and sipping.
Which, maybe it’s a good thing alcohol is involved right now. Katsuki doesn’t know what the fuck he would do if he had Kaminari and Mina’s annoying sober asses staring at him the entire ride. At least this might knock everyone out.
Something is thrown over the seat in front of him, something soft and cotton, and it lands in a heap over Katsuki’s head. He yelps, flailing his arms as he yells, “What the fuck is this?!”
He can’t see under all the fabric, and when he finally pulls his head out (he’s ignoring how Izuku actually pulled the thing off him), Tsuyu is staring at him over the seat. “Blankets. We thought it would be nice to get cozy, since it’s a long car ride.”
Katsuki squints at her, untrusting. “Cozy?” He repeats, spitting the word like it personally offends him.
Tsuyu just blinks at him. “Yeah.”
Katsuki’s about to argue, because he’s been stuffed into a fucking minivan with ten other people and he’s sitting on Izuku’s goddamn lap—there is nothing cozy about this. But before he can open his mouth, Jirou pipes up from down his row, “Wait, that’s such a good idea!”
Then she’s yanking one of the blankets from the pile, tossing it over herself, (and inadvertently Mina) and Kaminari, who makes a delighted noise before dramatically wrapping it around his shoulders like a cloak.
Katsuki watches this all unfold with narrowed eyes. His fingers twitch. He could just grab the blanket and throw it into the back with all the bags and shit. Or out the window. No one would stop him. Probably.
But maybe that little bit of coverage might come in handy, for some reason, because he’s practically got no coverage with his ass all over Izuku’s lap right now. A little bit of privacy.
That’s why he, very grumpily and grumbily, fixes the blanket around his lap (and, again, inadvertently over Izuku too).
A few people cackle at him, but he ignores them. He especially ignores Tsuyu’s raised eyebrow and small smile before she ducks back into her seat on top of Todoroki’s lap. He’s doing a lot of ignoring today, and everyone should be grateful. The minivan would not still be here if he wasn’t practicing patience.
What he doesn’t ignore is the quick way Izuku’s hands jerk out to the sides, his fingers fisting into the edges of the blanket around them so tightly his knuckles go white.
“You gonna fly away or something?” Katsuki grumbles sarcastically, glaring at Izuku over his shoulder.
Izuku is staring up at the roof, face comically red—tomato red, even—his shoulders tense and raised practically up to his ears. “Nope,” he wheezes out, voice strained.
Katsuki raises an eyebrow at him, then spits, “Something interesting up on the ceiling?”
“Nope.” Izuku forces out again, voice even more strained than before, closing his eyes.
Kaminari leans in towards them, his grin so shit-eating that Katsuki debates punching it off him, and then says, “He’s trying not to look at your killer back muscles, dude.”
Katsuki blinks at him. Then at Izuku. Then scowls, before he’s yelling, “What the fuck does that mean?!”
Izuku chokes on his own spit, coughing once before he says, barely audible since his voice is so fucking hoarse and strained, "Nope—" Izuku’s jaw slams shut as Katsuki lurches forward in his seat, yelping, then slams back against Izuku’s chest as the van hits a fucking pothole. "Woah!"
"Fucking—" Katsuki wheezes, hands scrambling to grab onto anything around him that could ground him in place.
“Told you it would get bumpy!” Mina cheers, almost slurs, and great, she’s tipsy. Drunk idiots and a bumpy road does not seem like a great idea. Someone better have brought barf-bags.
Though, unfortunately, that’s the least of Katsuki’s worries right now.
Katsuki’s back is pressed flush against Izuku’s chest, his ass all the way on his lap, firm muscle on firm muscle through the thin layers of their sweatpants and boxers. Izuku’s hand grips his waist, fingers digging into his side over his hoodie, his other holding the grab handle on the roof. Katsuki tenses up so quickly it kind of hurts.
“Let go of me.” He hisses, keeping his voice low so the idiot parade doesn’t eavesdrop. He unconsciously squirms away from where Izuku’s hand is holding him, then stops when he feels the way Izuku’s thigh muscles shift under his ass.
Izuku squeezes his side absentmindedly, like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, before his hand is flying away and he’s whispering back, a bit panicked, “Sorry, Kacchan! I—I didn’t mean to—you just jumped—"
“Shut up!” Katsuki snaps back under his breath, glaring at Izuku over his shoulder. He pushes away from Izuku’s chest (he does not scramble), sighing heavily through his nose as he glares at the back of the seat in front of him.
That was humiliating. Of course they have to take fucking back roads. Of course Katsuki is sitting on Izuku’s fucking lap with no seat belt and then getting knocked around by every rock and dip in the pavement under the tires of this crappy minivan.
Katsuki sighs heavily. One hour. He just has to survive one hour until the next rest stop, where he can get out and stretch his legs, and then he needs to book his ass into this van before anyone else so he can steal himself an actual seat.
And in a gracious turn of events, a half hour passes by pretty quickly, despite the fact that he’s been sitting on the edge of Izuku’s lap the entire time, the hard bones of Izuku's almost-knees and lower thighs digging uncomfortably into the bones of Katsuki's ass. The road had been bumpy, not too much, just jerky and rumbly, but nothing too bad.
Until now.
The van jerks slightly as they hit a bump in the road, and Katsuki shifts—just a little—to brace himself.
Izuku shudders behind him.
It’s small, barely noticeable, but Katsuki notices. His back goes ramrod straight. His fingers dig into the seat in front of him, holding him still as the road turns rocky. Izuku’s fingers grip the blanket again, white knuckled, hands shaking slightly.
The van hits another bump. Katsuki shifts again, the jostling sending him backwards, higher up Izuku's thighs until his back is almost touching Izuku's chest.
Izuku chokes.
Katsuki freezes.
Katsuki isn’t an idiot, and there is no fucking way this is what he thinks it is.
Slowly, very slowly, Katsuki turns his head just enough to glare over his shoulder at the dumbass he’s unfortunately seated on.
Izuku is staring straight ahead, wide-eyed, his mouth pressed in a thin, wobbly line. His thighs tense up even more under Katsuki and he mildly looks like he’s debating jumping out the rear view window.
A horrible epiphany dawns on Katsuki. “Oh my God.”
Izuku visibly swallows. His eyes flick down to Katsuki’s face, his cheeks go an ever deeper shade of red, before he’s looking away just as quickly.
Katsuki leans in, just enough that only Izuku can hear him, his voice sharp and a bit shaky, because what the fuck. “Are you—” He cuts himself off, eyes flicking down. Izuku’s entire body shakes.
“Oh my God.” Katsuki says again, horrified. Maybe. Maybe? What the fuck, maybe? Definitely horrified. “I—what—you’re fucking—”
Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence.
Katsuki snarls, eyes darting to the other occupants of the car, which all seem to be way too busy to watch whatever shit is going down with them here. Singing. Games. Chatter. Lots of drinking—whatever. Katsuki pries Izuku’s hands off, opens his mouth to speak, and then the van hits another pothole.
Katsuki wasn’t bracing himself this time, so he jerks backwards, arms flailing out for purchase, which he never finds. He feels the way his ass practically grinds down on Izuku’s lap, his back hitting Izuku’s chest again.
Izuku gasps sharply next to Katsuki’s ear.
All the colour drains from Katsuki’s face.
He grabs a fistful of Izuku’s shirt, hissing in a sharp whisper over his shoulder, “Are you getting a fucking boner right now?!”
Izuku makes a strangled, almost dying noise, as one of his hands fly up to cover his face. He exhales slowly, then mumbles, “This is my personal hell.”
Katsuki stares at him, jaw dropped, before the rocky road jostles them a bit again. Izuku doesn’t really react, but Katsuki feels it—he feels the way Izuku’s boner pokes at his ass. How he ends up grinding down against him, how Izuku’s stupid sweatpants are doing nothing to hide his ‘situation’ from Katsuki. How Katsuki’s sweatpants aren’t doing much to shield him from it either.
“What the fuck, Izuku?” Katsuki whispers, just—bewildered. Izuku whimpers pathetically behind his hand as an answer.
This is weird.
Just, okay—Katsuki fucks. Obviously. He jacks off like every young adult, has has the occasional fling, but he isn’t crazy. He doesn’t need to do any of that stuff. He barely gets a boner outside of his body throwing one at him every few mornings and he's never gotten a boner from just existing (which also means he's never popped a boner at a very unfortunate time like most men he knows has, which is a blessing), and half the time they deflate before he even thinks about doing anything about it. He’s just usually too busy to do anything about his libido. Maybe he's pent-up. Who knows.
But he sure as hell has never imagined Izuku’s dick.
Sure, he can appreciate the guy's body. His muscles. All the work he put into himself. And sure, he knows Izuku's not unattractive. But he’s never imagined grinding down on his dick before like he is now. Never imagined anything sexual with him.
Which means everything about Izuku’s dick getting hard right now is so, so far out of his realm.
With all that being said, why—
The car jerks again, Katsuki’s ass rubs against Izuku’s dick again. Izuku bites off a gasp, Katsuki tenses.
Why the fuck is his dick fucking twitching to life right now?!
Holy shit, this is the worst possible thing that could have happened to him. This is awful. Terrible. If Katsuki could jump out of this minivan’s window and run for his life, he would do it right about now—but, no. He’s stuck here, tangled in blankets and stuck in this shitty car, sitting on Izuku’s lap, on his boner, as his own areas decide to wake up for one of the first times in his entire twenty-five years of living.
It’s like the universe has decided to take every awkward moment he’s ever experienced and compile them into one soul-crushing, spine-tingling ride. What the hell kind of karma did he invoke to get stuck like this?
He can feel the poke of Izuku’s boner against his ass, and every time the van jerks, it’s like the universe is leaning in closer, whispering, “You really thought you could escape the awkward boner phase? That's cute.”
Izuku, bless his heart, or maybe his dick, looks like he’s about to combust, his face crimson and his body tense like a drawn bowstring. Katsuki just wants to scream. Is this his life now? This is his life. This is his hell.
“So, uh…” Katsuki’s voice comes out all raspy, and he immediately hates it. He’s not one to stammer or look vulnerable, but this whole thing is making him feel like he’s drowning in a vat of secondhand embarrassment for the both of them. He doesn’t know if he’s talking to himself or Izuku anymore. “You good, dumbass?”
Izuku makes a noise that can only be described as a mix between a choke and a wheeze, which honestly doesn’t give Katsuki a whole lot of hope that things are going to improve.
“No,” Izuku mumbles, almost too quietly to hear, like he’s apologizing to the universe for being a walking disaster.
“You’re not good?” Katsuki shoots back, eyes narrowing, voice dripping with astonished and slightly embarrassed sarcasm. He’s ready to lose his fucking mind. “It sure feels like you're doing pretty damn good to me.”
Izuku lets out a strangled noise, like he’s trying to hold in a scream but also a mortified laugh at the same time. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, okay?” His voice is rough, nearly breathless, as he tries to adjust where his boner sits against Katsuki's ass, but that only makes things worse. “Just—"
The van rocks, and Katsuki honestly just groans and rolls his eyes this time. Yeah, his ass grinds down on Izuku’s dick. Izuku gasps or whimpers or whatever the fuck. Katsuki feels some freakish heat pool in his gut.
But then Izuku’s hands are grabbing him by the waist, his fingers digging into his skin over his hoodie as he hisses right into Katsuki’s ear, “Just stop moving.”
Katsuki’s body zaps sharply, his thighs instinctively trying to close as his dick goes from twitching to a full on semi. Heat pools in his cheeks, and he wheezes out, “Don’t—get your hands off me!”
“I’m holding you still!” Izuku whispers back sharply, into his ear again, and Katsuki fucking shivers. He prays Izuku doesn’t notice. “You move on me whenever there’s a bump!”
Katsuki snarls, glaring at Izuku over his shoulder as his fists grab the blanket over his lap, adjusting it to hide everything. “I don’t care!”
Izuku is quiet for a moment, and in that moment the road decides to grace them with another wonderful pothole. They don’t move as much, not with Izuku holding Katsuki as tight as he is. All that happens is a shallow, slow grind down, and their breaths catching together.
Katsuki whips his head to look back at the seat in front of him, grinding his teeth. Literally any press of Izuku’s dick against him has his own dick wanting to perk up more. This is ridiculously horrific.
The rest of the minivan is occupied. The radio is so loud Katsuki would probably need to scream to be heard. Somehow Kaminari has already gone full dumb-mode next to him. Mina and Jirou are plastered, singing along to pop music with Iida and Uraraka up at the front. The middle is a bit calmer, but each of them there is completely engrossed in their own little thing.
“Kacchan—" Izuku starts, whispering against Katsuki’s ear again. His breath fans against Katsuki’s skin, warm and inviting, in a strange way, and Katsuki shivers again. Izuku’s fingers tighten on his waist just a bit, and he asks, a little strained, “Um, are you okay?”
Katsuki doesn’t even need to think to answer. “No!” He spits, body so tense and still he might snap in half if anything moves him right now. “Why the hell would I be okay?! We’re fucking dry humping because of a bumpy fucking road and an overcrowded minivan!”
Izuku doesn’t say anything, he just sighs miserably. Katsuki’s dick is hard. Izuku’s dick is hard. Everything is fucking hard right now for absolutely no logical reason whatsoever.
“The rest stop should be soon…” Izuku mumbles, voice farther from Katsuki’s ear. When Katsuki peeks back over his shoulder, Izuku has his head tilted back against the headrest behind him, his eyes closed. Katsuki’s eyes drag down his neck, to the way his throat bobs when he swallows, before he mentally slaps himself and screams internally. What the fuck is wrong with him?!
Maybe it’s a quirk? Lust quirks exist. They aren’t common, but maybe he got hit with one on his last mission a few days ago. Or maybe a random civilian accidentally used one on him. Or maybe he just finds Izuku fucking Midoriya getting off on his ass accidentally rubbing against Izuku's dick hot—
No. It has to be a lust quirk. It can’t be just him.
“I’m not sitting on anyone’s fucking lap after that stop.” Katsuki hisses, unconsciously shifting where he’s sitting just to get more comfortable—because listen, as hot as it apparently is, a hard dick poking his asscheek in the same spot for minutes on end is uncomfortable.
Izuku hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening on Katsuki’s hips as he snaps, “Don’t move.”
“I’m trying to get your fucking dick out of my asscheek!” Katsuki snaps back, growling low in his throat as he shifts again, a little harder, just to be petty.
“And I’m trying not to come my pants!” Izuku hisses back, right near Katsuki's ear again, voice leaking with uncomfortable awkwardness and a sense of unabashed connection to the reality of his situation—which is apparently that he could come in his goddamn pants from this.
Katsuki pauses, and he shudders, because visuals. Imagination. His brain fucking works and it’s overworking right now. And apparently that’s hot. Like, concerningly so, because Katsuki’s dick is fully hard now. His dick is trying to stand straight up in his sweatpants. What the actual fuck.
Izuku sighs sharply, his breath hitting Katsuki’s neck—before Katsuki is flailing just a bit as Izuku is genuinely lifting him up and moving him, bypassing all the awkward grinding Katsuki would have had to do to shift positions.
And when Katsuki sits back down on Izuku’s lap, Izuku’s dick is between his fucking asscheeks instead of poking against one.
“That’s not better!” Katsuki snaps, a bit panicked, a bit frustrated, and very… horny, disturbingly. “Why did you think that was better?!”
“It’s not poking you, right?” Izuku says, frustrated and almost groaning. He squeezes Katsuki’s hips, and Katsuki just wants to scream. Or moan. He doesn’t know.
Instead, he groans, spitting dryly, “Fuck me.”
Izuku lightly swats his side, sucking in a sharp breath before he rushes out, “Don’t say that!”
“Oh my fucking God.” Katsuki groans again, throwing his head in his hands. His dick twitches at everything, hard enough to make him want to just jerk off for once in his goddamn life. And there's Izuku behind him, hard, sensitive, way too into this that Katsuki thinks he might have some questions to ask the nerd once this is all over with. “Don’t tell me your perverted, nerdy brain is getting off to what I’m saying now, too?”
Izuku whines, his head thumping back against the headrest behind him. “Look, this is awkward for both of us, but maybe it would be easier to deal with if you weren’t being a dick—"
“You’re being a dick.” Katsuki snaps, crossing his arms and huffing. “I’m being an ass.”
Izuku stops talking, then one of his hands leaves Katsuki’s waist and drags down his face. He laughs quietly into his palm, then mumbles, “Yup. Sure. What the hell—why not? Let’s stay technical.”
“You’re losing it.” Katsuki quips, glaring ahead of him as the van rocks and he’s stuck firmly on Izuku’s lap, his hard dick between his ass.
“I’m actually exhibiting the self-control of a saint right now.” Izuku quips back sassily, squeezing Katsuki’s waist tightly.
Katsuki rolls his eyes hard, then sighs. This is utterly ridiculous. This is his life. He’s gotta resign to his fate of being hard and having a hard-on pressing against him eventually. There’s three or so hours left of this car ride, and then he has a three-day camping trip with Izuku to survive. He has to figure this shit out.
And it’s Izuku. Out of every fucker in this car he’s mildly glad it’s him. Their relationship has always been complicated, so it’s not monumental if they throw in a random dry humping session in there. Childhood friends, turned rivals, turned friendly-rivals, turned dry-humpers. How poetic.
He sighs loudly before he flops back against Izuku's chest, his back to him. Izuku yelps a bit, his cheeks red, and Katsuki just levels him with a sharp glare as he spits, “I’m tired of freaking out over your dick.”
“Noted.” Izuku mumbles, almost wheezing it out, nodding quietly.
Katsuki grumbles, crossing his arms as he glares from where he’s sitting. What a fucking car ride this is turning out to be. Izuku shifts a bit, and Katsuki shifts his thighs together a little more, his dick begging for friction that it’s never going to get. He grits his teeth, trying to focus on anything other than the damn pressure building in his pants. He swears the van’s seats are conspiring against him, and that every bump is a personal attack on his dignity.
Izuku’s breathing is still shallow behind him, he's still hard, and Katsuki can feel the heat radiating off of his body through his sweater and sweatpants. This is so fucking stupid. Why does it feel like the entire universe has conspired to turn him into some kind of horny disaster on wheels? And why Izuku? Why the hell is it always Izuku?
“Are we seriously doing this?” Katsuki mutters, the absurdity of it all hitting him like a ton of bricks. “Dry humping because of a bunch of goddamn potholes?”
Izuku hums in response, though it sounds more like he’s trying to contain his laughter—or maybe his own frustration. “I mean, we’re not really dry humping, right? It’s more like… bad timing.”
Katsuki just shoots him a deadpan stare over his shoulder. “No, I think this qualifies as dry humping. Just without any, y’know, intention behind it.”
“I mean, we could just—uh, try to talk it out? Or, you know, pretend this isn’t happening?” Izuku chuckles nervously, shifting uncomfortably beneath him.
“Oh yeah, sure,” Katsuki snaps, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let’s just pretend my ass isn’t grinding on your dick in a cramped van full of our coworkers and friends. Great idea.”
Izuku groans, dropping his head back against the seat behind him with an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, alright, this is definitely the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in with you.”
Katsuki snorts. “Same here, nerd. It’s a fucking disaster.”
“You know,” Izuku says thoughtfully, “maybe we should just not make it worse by—”
“By what?” Katsuki interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “What, do you think that if we sing and dance it’ll all magically go away?”
Izuku’s face goes bright red. “Well… maybe?”
Katsuki’s mind momentarily blanks out as Izuku squeezes his hips again, his dick twitching at the feeling. He groans, deeply frustrated, but before he can say anything, the van jerks into another bump, and Katsuki feels like he might actually combust.
“This—this is ridiculous,” Katsuki mutters under his breath, trying to figure out any way he can keep his dignity intact through the rest of the three hour car ride.
Izuku just grunts in acknowledgement, though there’s something in his voice that sounds dangerously close to resigned defeat. That is a dangerous way to sound when it involves boners and trying not to come your pants.
There’s a long silence between them as the van rocks again, and Katsuki fights against the growing sense of absurdity. It’s too much. Way too much.
Izuku shifts slightly behind him, and Katsuki glances over his shoulder just in time to see the stupid, nervous grin on his face. “At least we can laugh at this a few years down the line?”
Katsuki snorts, shaking his head. “Gross. You sound like an old man.”
Izuku shrugs, grinning. “It’s called optimism. You should try it.”
Katsuki opens his mouth to retort, but then another bump hits, harder this time, and he’s jerked back and forth over Izuku’s dick, feeling himself grinding down on it from where it sits between his asscheeks. It takes everything in him not to scream in frustration.
“I can’t wait for that fucking rest stop.” Katsuki seethes, ignoring how Izuku uses his annoyingly attractive strength to fix their position. Attractive? Huh? Who said that?
Izuku sighs wistfully, then chuckles. “You know, at this rate, we might actually become actual friends by the end of this trip.”
Katsuki snorts, then snarks, “Friends? Don’t even think about it, nerd. We’re still rivals. Even if I'm seconds away from making you come right now.”
“You are not—!" Izuku starts, squeaking with red cheeks.
But Iida interrupts him, shouting loudly over all the noise, jolting both Izuku and Katsuki who had honestly forgotten they weren’t completely alone, “Sorry, everyone! It looks like we missed the rest stop! The next one is two hours away!”
The rest of the car is loud, yelling out affirmatives or just yelling, but the little corner where Katsuki and Izuku have tucked themselves into is dead silent.
Because fuck no.
Katsuki freezes, staring at Izuku in horror. “Two fucking hours?” He snaps, voice cracking slightly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Izuku, also mortified, tries to awkwardly adjust in his seat, his face a bright shade of red. “Uh, I—well, this is fucked up.”
Katsuki slumps, both defeated and frustrated, but most of all, so damn horny he could scream. The seat beneath Izuku feels like it’s mocking him now, every bump in the road sending shock waves through his overstimulated system. Izuku’s breath behind him is a reminder of what’s going on. And there’s no escape. No way to run away from this situation that’s spiralling into absurdity.
“Do you—uh, do you wanna talk about something else?” Izuku offers, clearly trying to distract them both from the reality of their predicament. “I mean, we could—”
“Sure, let’s talk about fucking All Might or something while we ignore our fucking boners!” Katsuki snaps, his voice surprisingly tight. He heaves in a sharp breath, fingers clenching around the blanket in his lap.
Izuku is quiet for a second, before his eyes narrow and he says, “Our?”
Katsuki realized he fucked up a second before Izuku even said that.
Katsuki freezes, caught in his own words, his entire face burning as the words replay in his mind like a fucking death threat. “I—what?”
“Yeah, you said ‘our’ boners,” Izuku says slowly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice is still soft, teasing. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
Katsuki groans, pressing a hand to his face in frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that, dumbass. I—God, just shut up.”
Izuku laughs quietly, clearly enjoying Katsuki’s discomfort a little too much, but his tone softens as he says, “Alright, alright, no need to get all defensive.”
Katsuki feels the familiar heat of frustration and something else he refuses to acknowledge—attraction—rise in his chest. “Shut up. I’m not defensive.”
Izuku goes quiet for a moment, but Katsuki can feel him watching, his gaze heavy on the back of his head. He almost wishes Izuku would just keep talking, keep saying something that would fill the silence and distract him from the damn pressure building in his pants.
He doesn’t, and instead, the van hits another bump, and the shift in movement pulls Katsuki back, grinding against Izuku for the trillionth time since he stepped foot in his godforsaken minivan.
Though, this time is more heated, in a way. Izuku’s hands grab his waist, and he makes a small noise in the back of his throat, and Katsuki’s dick twitches like normal—but Izuku doesn’t hold him still above his boner. He presses him down.
“What the fuck—“ Katsuki hisses, and he ignores the shudder in his chest, hands flying out to pry at Izuku’s fingers on his waist. “What are you doing?”
“I’m holding you still.” Izuku says next to his ear, closer than he ever has been, and Katsuki refuses to let himself jerk away even if he really wants to. And he only wants to because that makes it incredibly hard to ignore his dick.
True to his words, Izuku is holding him still. Still and down, though. He isn’t just letting him sit, he’s pushing him into it.
“No you’re fucking not.” Katsuki snaps, elbowing Izuku in the ribs hard enough to sting for a few seconds. “I can feel everything, you fucking dumbass.”
The van rocks, and Katsuki swears he wasn’t rocked with it, but Izuku’s hands moved him with the rock instead. Pressed down, he grinds harder, tingles lighting up across his skin.
“Okay, you’re up to fucking something, you perverted freak.” Katsuki spits, wiggling around to try and move away from Izuku’s dick. All that really does is grind his ass down on it.
Izuku sighs quietly next to Katsuki’s ear, making goosebumps go up his arms. “Listen…” Izuku starts, a bit nervous. “Why don’t we just… fix ourselves? Real quick. I honestly don’t know if I can hold out for two hours, Kacchan.”
Katsuki freezes.
“You are not suggesting what I think you are.” Katsuki spits, turning as far around as he can to stare at Izuku’s face. He narrows his eyes, taking in his red cheeks and pouty face, and shivers. “… Because if you are, you have five seconds to explain yourself before I blow you up so hard you won’t have a dick to harass me with ever again.”
Izuku looks away, biting his lip, then shrugs. “It wouldn’t take long. And we can just clean up at the next rest stop.” He pauses, his fingers tightening on Katsuki’s waist. “And it’s uncomfortable—like this. Nobody else has noticed, either. But when we get to the rest stop, we won’t be able to hide it.”
Katsuki blinks at him, and then groans.
“It’s disgusting that you’re going all nerd-mode on this shit.” Katsuki grumbles under his breath, ignoring the heat creeping up the back of his neck. “You want to cum humping my goddamn ass? Seriously?”
Izuku digs his teeth into his bottom lip harder, his fingers twitching against Katsuki’s hips. He breathes out, laughing quietly, “Uh—well, you have a nice ass. So, it’s fine.”
Katsuki’s eyebrows raise to his hairline, and despite everything, despite the nervous shiver in his body and his irritatingly hard dick, he snorts and teases, “Just like my back muscles?”
Izuku tilts his head, watching him closely. The next rough bump comes by, and this time Katsuki clearly feels Izuku moving his body with it gently, grinding him down almost like he’s testing it out. It shocks Katsuki for all of a second—this is seriously happening, what the fuck, holy shit—before he’s shivering because this is really happening and his dick loves that.
And in the long run, Izuku made some good points. Katsuki was hard enough to hurt. Nobody else has noticed—too drunk or occupied to care. And it is going to be extremely fucking awkward shuffling out of the van with everyone’s eyes on them sporting matching boners.
Holding out for two hours with that waiting for him at the end seems harder than just giving in and getting Izuku goddamn Midoriya to make him cum in the back of his friend's shitty, overcrowded minivan.
His life is a complete joke.
“Fuck this.” Katsuki breathes out quietly. He grabs onto the back of the seat in front of him, and Izuku lets him go—probably thinks he’s trying to get away, or something—but no. Katsuki does something even worse.
Something he never, ever, fucking ever thought he would do in his entire life.
He uses the seat to give himself some sort of grounding, and he bites his lip, pushing down the embarrassment and hesitation before he grinds his ass down against Izuku’s dick. He’s not necessarily slow or gentle, but he’s not fast or rough either. He’s just… cautiously competitive.
Izuku’s hands go right back to his hips, this time dragging up his sides, up and down his waist, as he gasps and pushes him down harder. “Holy shit, this is really happening.”
“Tell me about it.” Katsuki breathes, looking away from Izuku because he just can’t look at him right now. It’s too awkward, strange, intimate, sexy, literally every adjective ever. It’s too much.
Izuku bites off already whispered noises as he grinds Katsuki’s ass down with Katsuki’s movements, slowly, carefully, barely noticeable over the blanket covering their laps. Katsuki genuinely feels euphoric—he guesses this is what most people feel when they get horny and fuck around. Maybe he should’ve tried doing this kind of shit sooner.
One of Izuku’s hands moves from Katsuki’s waist to his stomach, then up his chest slowly. Katsuki’s heartbeat jumps at that, because so far everything has been hidden under that blanket on their laps. That move was definitely out in the open.
His eyes dart to the side—nobody’s looking. Like, at all. Everyone in their row is passed out cold. The music is drowning out any noises, and everyone ahead of them is either on their phones or chatting loudly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone see.” Izuku mumbles, pushing back against Katsuki’s chest firmly. Katsuki’s back hits Izuku’s front, and he murmurs against the skin of his neck softly, “Pay attention to me.”
“Needy.” Katsuki grumbles sharply, but he shivers anyway.
Izuku huffs and nips at his neck—and Katsuki gasps suddenly, the first real fucking noise he’s made this entire car ride. Izuku stops moving, and Katsuki bites his lips hard, mortified.
“Do that again.” Izuku urges, pressing his hips up to meet Katsuki’s ass as he holds Katsuki down, grinding up against him roughly. “Kacchan, make more noises for me.”
Katsuki hisses quietly, turning his head to glare at Izuku as he says, just the tiniest bit shakily, “Dumbass. We have to be fucking quiet.”
Izuku tilts his head, a wobbly smile on his face as he grinds his hips up harder, shivering. “Quiet noises?”
Katsuki sighs heavily, shaking his head. His fingers dig deeper into the seat in front of him as he feels Izuku rub up particularly hard, almost desperately, and he snaps, “I ain’t moaning on command.”
Izuku laughs quietly, murmuring against his neck, “Fair enough.” The hand on Katsuki’s chest trails back down, across his abs, then dives back under the blanket covering his lap. Katsuki tenses for a moment, and in the next Izuku’s palm is grinding down on his clothed dick, and he’s choking back a moan he’s never made in his entire life—high and whiny. Izuku shudders, saying, “Shit, who knew your voice could get like that?”
Katsuki unbites his lip just to snap out, “Don’t analyze me, you fuckin’ stalker,” before he’s biting it again, muffling any gasps threatening to fall out as Izuku grinds down with his palm.
“It’s cute,” Izuku laughs against his neck, his breath hot, and Katsuki growls before he grinds his ass down against Izuku’s dick hard. Izuku whimpers a bit pathetically, hips jumping up and hand tightening against the bulge in Katsuki’s sweatpants, face pressing into the back of Katsuki’s neck.
“Who knew you sounded like that?” Katsuki taunts sharply under his breath, spitting Izuku’s words back at him. Katsuki grinds down the same way, and then again, and he realizes he’s practically set a rhythm and laughs under his breath. “You getting off soon?”
Izuku nods wordlessly against the back of Katsuki’s neck, panting into his skin, the occasional quiet whine falling out. His hands are simply holding Katsuki now, not moving, his hips rutting up into Katsuki’s movements almost absentmindedly.
“Kacchan—fuck." Izuku mumbles, then he nips at Katsuki’s neck again, forcing a gasp out of Katsuki’s lips and his hips to stutter. Izuku groans quietly, pushing Katsuki back into that rhythm as he sucks on the back of Katsuki’s neck.
Katsuki shudders, his dick twitching against Izuku’s palm. “Don’t—you’re going to leave a fucking mark.”
Izuku pulls off and nips again, his hips moving hard enough that it’s noticeable to an outside view, which makes Katsuki rush—pushing back harder and faster.
“I don’t care,” Izuku mumbles, before he’s latching onto a new piece of exposed skin on Katsuki’s neck.
Katsuki whines quietly, which is mortifying, because he’s never whined in his life—but Izuku just groans, biting down on his neck hard, noises dying against Katsuki’s skin, hips jumping and hands gripping at Katsuki’s body under the blanket.
Izuku cums, and Katsuki knows that because he can feel it. He can feel it against his ass as Izuku grinds slower, how his dick twitches between the layers of clothes covering them, how he pulls off Katsuki’s skin and sighs softly against his neck.
Katsuki is still hard, but he’s not entirely focused on that right now. He’s more focused on the way Izuku is breathing against his neck, how his fingers are rubbing gently into his sides, how—
The entire minivan shakes.
Katsuki and Izuku both yelp, flailing around as a few other passengers screech and complain too. Katsuki is shoved forward, then back as Uraraka slams on the breaks, hitting his back against Izuku’s chest hard with a groan and a wince from Izuku.
“Sorry, guys!” Uraraka shouts over the loud pop music, laughing a little bit. “That was a huge pothole! I totally just swerved and saved my car!”
Katsuki groans, thumping his head back next to Izuku’s head, leaning back against him. “This fucking road!”
Then Katsuki is tensing, because Kaminari and Mina are groaning, Jirou yawning next to where he’s sitting ontop of Izuku’s lap. He moves to sit up, to put distance between the two of them, to pretend that Izuku didn’t just fucking cum a second ago, but Izuku holds him back by his stomach under the blanket.
“Pretend you’re sleeping.” Izuku mumbles, face turned to talk against Katsuki’s cheek, voice so low Katsuki has to really pay attention to hear him. “They already saw you.”
Katsuki doesn’t have to be told twice.
He becomes a goddamn fucking actor—closes his eyes, evens out his face, and relaxed his entire body as much as he can against Izuku.
It’s hard to ignore the way his heart is beating in his chest, how Izuku’s fingers curl against his abs, how one hand is a little lower, almost touching his still hard dick. It’s practically impossible to ignore that last one.
To Katsuki’s side, he hears Mina giggle. “Geez, Bakugou is knocked out. That massive pothole-attack didn’t even wake him up.”
Izuku laughs quietly, and Katsuki feels him nod before he whispers, “He fell asleep a while ago.”
Katsuki wants to punch him.
Not only is Izuku a lying bastard, but he’s also a lying bastard who’s way too good at this. His voice is calm, smooth—so natural that even Katsuki almost believes him. If he wasn’t still very much awake and very much hard, he might have been fooled.
Mina coos. “Aww, that’s kinda cute, though. He must’ve been exhausted.”
Katsuki nearly twitches. He is not cute. And he is not asleep.
Kaminari snickers, his voice a little closer now, and he must be leaning over. “Man, I never thought I’d see Bakugou like this. He’s all relaxed and peaceful and shit. I guess Midoriya really knows how to wear him out.”
Katsuki definitely twitches at that. He can feel the way Izuku stiffens behind him, like he’s holding in a laugh—or maybe panicking just as much as Katsuki is. Either way, his grip on Katsuki’s stomach tightens just a little.
Jirou groans loudly, her voice strained as he snaps, “Ugh, don’t say it like that. You make everything sound weird.”
“Yeah,” Uraraka agrees from the front, amused and yelling over the music. “Don’t be gross, Kaminari.”
“I’m just saying!” Kaminari insists, and Katsuki can feel him wiggling around in his seat next to him and Izuku. “Like, Bakugou always acts all tough, but here he is, just conked out in Midoriya’s lap like a little house cat or something.”
Katsuki hates him. He is going to kill him. The moment this van stops moving, Kaminari is dead.
He wants to growl, wants to snap back with something sharp and very un-sleepy. But he can’t. He’s supposed to be asleep. He’s supposed to be completely unaware that his entire goddamn situation is being casually discussed like it’s some funny little moment and not the worst, most humiliating experience of his life.
Then, as if this isn’t already a fucking nightmare, Izuku chuckles softly. It’s low, barely there, and it’s right next to Katsuki’s fucking ear. Katsuki’s dick twitches. Izuku’s hand was close enough for him to notice.
Katsuki clenches his jaw so hard he might actually break his teeth.
Izuku has to be doing this on purpose.
There’s no way he’s that oblivious—not when his fingers twitch against Katsuki’s stomach, pressing in just enough to send heat pooling lower. Not when he shifts a little behind him, readjusting like he’s getting comfortable, which means Katsuki feels everything.
And not when he laughs again, quieter this time, like he’s enjoying this.
That fucker.
Katsuki grits his teeth and forces himself to stay loose, forces himself to pretend that the warmth creeping up his neck is from the stupid blanket and not the fact that he’s rock-hard and stuck in Izuku’s lap in a van full of their dumbass friends with no way to fix any of it.
“Man,” Sero mumbles (and great, he’s in on this too) after a moment, voice lazy and amused, “I can’t believe Bakugou can actually sleep on people.”
Katsuki is going to rip his throat out.
“Right?” Kirishima whistles, his voice loud and giggly, and he’s probably the one who finished off all those bottles of alcohol Kaminari snuck in. “I always figured he’d be one of those ‘don’t fucking touch me’ sleepers.”
I am. Katsuki thinks violently.
“Maybe he’s just comfortable with Midoriya,” Todoroki chimes in, his voice calm. “He’s known him forever.”
God, can this get any worse? He’s got practically the whole fucking car staring at him, watching him fake-sleep while sitting on Izuku fucking Midoriya’s lap. This can’t get any worse.
And then Izuku hums. Fucking hums.
Katsuki almost kicks him.
“Yeah,” Izuku says quietly, voice so warm that it makes Katsuki’s stomach twist. His fingers trace up and down across Katsuki’s stomach lightly, inching a bit lower, brushing over his waistband. “Guess he is.”
Katsuki hates him.
Hates the smug little edge to his voice, hates how he says it like it’s a fact, like he has proof to back it up. He hates it even more that Katsuki probably couldn’t deny it, because seriously—just look at them.
Katsuki ground his ass on Izuku’s boner in a car full on their friends, made him cum, and is now pretending to sleep on his lap with a raging boner of his own as Izuku fucking teases him or some disgusting shit.
Eventually, the idiots around him stop looking at his little act like it’s one of the world's greatest wonders, and go back to their own things. Nobody goes back to sleep though, from what Katsuki can tell. But Izuku shifts, relaxes slightly, and Katsuki doesn’t hear any more talk about himself, so he assumes it’s all as fine as it could be in a situation like this.
Doesn’t mean he’s fucking fake-waking up anytime soon. Absolutely not. He does not want to deal with everyone’s teasing right now.
Unfortunately that means he’s forced to deal with Izuku’s teasing.
His fingers press into his waistband, his other hand rubbing up and down his side. Katsuki forces himself not to react, and then Izuku is leaning towards his face, mumbling quietly, “I could still get you off now, if you wanted. Everyone got bored of you sleeping on me.”
Katsuki tenses, because what the fuck?
Everyone is awake, everyone is alert enough to be having conversations and notice things, they’re only barely covered by that blanket over Katsuki’s lap and the fact that it’s night time, so it’s dark out. There’s no privacy and an even riskier chance of getting caught than when Izuku got off a few minutes ago. There’s absolutely no way this is a good idea.
Katsuki ignores his borderline pathetic dick as it twitches.
“You’re crazy.” Katsuki hisses, his head turned away from the others in his row, tucked against Izuku’s cheek, whispering into his ear. “They’re fucking awake.”
Izuku mumbles, barely moving his lips as he says, “They won’t notice.” His hand dips lower, tracing against the dick-print in the front of Katsuki’s sweatpants. “Just stay still and quiet. Everything is covered up under the blanket.”
Uraraka suddenly shouts over the music, voice happy and light, “Rest stop in twenty minutes!”
A few people cheer, and Katsuki’s gut sinks. He’s not sure his boner is going to go down by then. It’s been going strong for a while now, anyway (it’s mildly concerning at this point). He would definitely not like to have to try and hide it from everyone when they all get out of the van.
So, against all of Katsuki’s better judgment, he turns his head further into the side of Izuku’s face and hisses out grumpily, “Fine.”
Izuku just hums. He doesn’t say anything. He palms the front of Katsuki’s pants, pressing his hand against his dick through Katsuki’s sweatpants. Katsuki bites his lip and hisses softly into Izuku’s cheek.
Izuku grinds his palms down shallowly, slowly, and it’s making Katsuki go a little insane. He wants to get off and quick, because this situation is entirely ridiculous and he’s one pothole away from losing his mind.
Katsuki moves his hand, slowly and barely even an inch, and pinches Izuku on the outer side of his thigh.
“Ow,” Izuku mumbles, but he sounds amused, chest moving as he laughs under his breath.
Katsuki’s about to threaten him as discreetly as he possibly can when Izuku takes his hand away from Katsuki’s dick. But he doesn’t, because in the next second Izuku is shoving that hand under Katsuki’s waistband and gripping his cock. Skin-on-skin.
Katsuki’s entire body visibly shudders, and he’s biting out breathlessly, “What the fuck—“
“Shh,” Izuku whispers, fingers swiping across the tip of Katsuki’s dick—collecting up his precum. “You’re asleep, remember?”
Katsuki’s dick is weak. He’s weak right now. He listens.
He forces down another shudder, turns it into a small shiver, when Izuku fists his dick with now-slick fingers and drags his hand up slowly.
Katsuki pants hot breath against Izuku’s cheek, and feels Izuku shiver underneath him as the dumbass fisting his cock whispers, “Wish I could see.”
“Dream about it.” Katsuki snaps back, leaning as far into Izuku’s face as he can, lips brushing against his skin. Izuku lets out a small whine, and his hand finally starts really moving.
Izuku’s hand, still under his sweatpants, still under the blanket on Katsuki’s lap, jerks up suddenly and then slams down, fingers tightening. Hot pleasure shoots through Katsuki, his fingers unconsciously digging into the side of Izuku’s thigh. He violently bites his lip.
Izuku twists his hand on the tip of Katsuki’s cock on the next jerk, and Katsuki fails to keep the low hiss of, “Fuck,” from spilling out of his lips.
Izuku hums, pressing his cheek against Katsuki’s face. His other hand rubs into Katsuki’s side. Katsuki’s favourite hand jerks him off faster.
Katsuki feels his thighs shaking, and gasps. It’s probably too loud, definitely, but he doesn’t really care because Izuku is jerking him off and it feels good and he’s gonna cum finally.
“Close?” Izuku murmurs, hand pumping Katsuki’s dick, twisting, squeezing, and God it feels good, he’s close, he’s gonna cum—
Izuku laughs quietly, twisting his hand perfectly over the head of Katsuki’s dick, saying, “Didn’t know you mumbled too, Kacchan.”
Heat pricks up Katsuki’s neck, and he gasps then groans softly, thighs tensing as his hips try to move into the pleasure. He can’t, because Izuku is holding him still. Izuku is holding him still—
Katsuki’s orgasm crashes into him so suddenly with that thought that it catches himself off guard. A whiny, quiet moan falls from his lips, his dick twitching in Izuku’s hand. Izuku keeps going, slowing down more and more, until he pulls his hand completely out of Katsuki’s sweatpants and hides it under the blanket.
Katsuki exhales shakily, his body going limp against Izuku. His mind is finally at peace from its horny spell. He’s never been so grateful to not be hard in his entire life.
Then Izuku shatters all of his peace when he says, loud and chipper, “Kaminari, can you pass me a napkin? I spilled water.”
Katsuki almost fake-wakes up just to scream and strangle Izuku.
Kaminari takes a few seconds to respond, but says, “Oh! Sure, dude,” there’s some rustling, then he says, “Here!”
Izuku moves his arm to grab it, and he’s probably smiling in that irritating golden-boy smile of his when he says, “Thanks!”
Katsuki’s gonna kill him one day. It’s his new life mission.
After some shifting, both of Izuku’s hands are under the blanket, shifting and moving. Katsuki’s eyes aren’t open so he can’t see, but he’s not stupid . He knows what the nerd is doing.
“… It got everywhere.” Izuku mumbles after a beat of silence, fumbling around to wipe Katsuki’s cum off his hand.
Katsuki shakes with barely contained rage, hissing under his breath, “I’ll call your mom to set up your funeral ahead of time.”
“That’s actually pretty considerate of you.” Izuku mumbles back, voice so amused and smug it makes Katsuki have to swallow down a strangled scream.
The car slows down, rumbling to a stop. The music is turned down, then Uraraka calls out, “Rest stop! Everyone get out and go piss. I'm not cleaning up any accidents in my car.”
Katsuki immediately shoots up, slamming his eyes open. Kaminari jerks next to him and Izuku flinches.
“Dude!” Kaminari wails, clutching his heart. “Why did you just fucking—I don’t know—arise from slumber?!”
Katsuki slowly turns to look at him, ignoring the alarm signals blaring in his mind that are repeating to him that he just came next to the man, and spits snarkily, “Just to scare you.”
Kaminari laughs and shakes his head. Eventually everyone crawls out of the van, chatting as they all walk into their respective bathrooms.
Katsuki slams his bathroom stall door shut and looks in his pants.
He immediately grimaces.
By the time he’s cum-free the bathroom is silent.
He steps out of his bathroom stall at the same time that Izuku steps out of his (they were next to each other, terribly enough). They stare at each other. It’s silent for all of five seconds.
And then Katsuki hisses, a finger jabbing into Izuku’s chest, “We will never speak of this again.”
Izuku nods, jerky and short, before mumbling with a wobbly smile, “Got it.”
They wash their hands, step out into the cold night air, up to the van, and—Katsuki didn’t anticipate this. Dear God, he should have thought about this.
Having to clean himself up after jerking off inside that goddamn van means he took longer in the bathroom. Everyone is already in their seats, staring at them with overly excited expressions and urging them inside. Everyone’s in the same exact spots they were for the first half of this trip like they organized a seating plan from hell without them.
Izuku’s back corner seat is open. Katsuki dashes for the van.
Katsuki is practically stepping on Sero’s lap as he tries to crawl over the middle row, shouting “I’m fucking sitting in the seat this time!”
Izuku jumps in too, scrambling to get over the seats as he shoves Katsuki, yelling, “No way! Kacchan, I’m not sitting on your lap!"
Katsuki shoves his hand into Izuku’s face, falling over the middle row and onto Kaminari, who groans and whines on impact. Izuku is quick to follow, grabbing Katsuki by the back of his hoodie as he tries to crawl overtop of him.
Katsuki yells bloody murder, scraping at Izuku, who practically flips over him—
And lands in the empty seat.
Katsuki blinks at him, half sprawled over Kaminari and half stuck in the foot section of the back row.
Izuku rights himself, blinking rapidly. His eyes lock onto Katsuki’s, and slowly, he grins and pats his lap.
Then he says way too smugly, way too brightly, “Come sit down, Kacchan!”
Katsuki screams.