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“Do I really need to be here for this?” Deku asked as he followed Kacchan up the stairs of the obnoxiously loud frat house. People were already spilling out onto the lawn, doing whatever it was that wildly drunk people did that caused them to lay on the ground and laugh up at the sky.
Frowning as a girl in a bra and hot pants bumped into him on the way out, Deku reached out and hooked a finger in the belt loop of Kacchan’s low slung jeans.
“Did you hear me?” he called above the bass-heavy music thundering from the open door.
“Hah?” Kacchan peered over his shoulder, barely scanning Deku’s face as he eyed the half-dressed girl flouncing away.
“I have a test to study for,” Deku said, a last ditch attempt to escape. If he had to watch his best friend get his dick on with another manic pixie dream girl, he was going to puke the same as the chick who just passed them and vommed in a bush.
This was going to be a long night.
Kacchan rolled his eyes and ruffled Deku’s hair, his grin sharp and steady and confident as ever. Deku hated how much he loved it - how much it worked on him, too.
“If you got a test, you’ll pass it whether or not you study tonight. What’s your deal, Deku? Have a little fun once in a while. Why don’t you get laid while you’re at it?”
Deku swiped Kacchan’s hand away and stayed close to his back as they wedged through the doorway and into the sea of red solo cups, pot clouds, and a very sticky floor. It wasn’t even midnight and the living room roiled in a sea of college kids, all here for the same reason as Kacchan.
“I’m sure I’ll find my exact type in a place like this,” Deku mumbled despondently.
Of course, the irony of the situation was that his type was exactly in this place. Deku just happened to be there to do what he did best for Kacchan - smile sweetly and convince chicks to talk to them. They loved the freckles, the curls, the smile - just enough to think that Kacchan wasn’t a raging douchebag for being friends with him.
Kacchan just needed the in to talk to them. Afterward, Deku was free to go.
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need,” Kacchan said, slinging a bare arm over Deku’s shoulders and dragging him toward what might be the kitchen. His black top rode up his slim waist and Deku could only roll his eyes to the heavens, then frowned when he noticed someone had spray painted a giant red cock on the fourteen foot high ceiling. “When was the last time you got laid by a guy who wasn’t some thespian loser? Do they cry when they cum? Didn’t you tell me about a guy who -”
“At least they feel emotions,” Deku shot back, ducking quick enough to dodge a beach ball aimed right for his head. “The women you’re interested in are like those toy dispensers for kids. Deposit your coin and a single ball with a single marble pops out.”
“Where the fuck you get this stuff?” Kacchan asked, laughing him off as they rounded into a kitchen cluttered with a city skyline of booze bottles. “Alright, this is where the party starts.”
“Please.” Deku made a beeline for the tower of solo cups, went to his tiptoes to pluck one from the top. “At least we can agree on this.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna talk to you when you got a mug like that on, anyway.” Kacchan said, mixing a drink that was seventy-five percent more alcohol than it was anything. The guy could hold his booze, that was for sure.
“This is the last time I’m being your wingman,” Deku said, accepting the other, slightly weaker cup that Kacchan offered. He wondered how many times he would have to say this was the last time before it was the last time.
“Yeah, yeah.” Kacchan clicked their cups in a mocking cheers before he downed half in one go. Smacking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he paused to smirk at Deku’s sour face, head cocked. “If you find me a girl, I’ll find you a guy. How about that?”
“The only guys you know are meatheads.” Deku sipped from his drink slowly and eyed a couple who entered the kitchen, mouths attached like some horror movie he didn’t want to remember the name of. “Let’s get out of here and get this over with.”
“Best friend,” Kacchan said, crowing a laugh as he ruffled Deku’s hair upon his exit.
Deku heaved a sigh and followed.
This had been going on for years. Deku attracted girls, but not in the way every other guy he knew desired to attract them.
Women liked to talk to him. They connected with him, enjoyed him - and he felt the same in return. It had been at their freshman parties where Deku would find himself surrounded by chicks who thought he was ‘sweet’ or ‘cute’ or whatever other adjective that inwardly made him cringe -
And, as it had happened, this was how Kacchan had first gotten laid. And then again, and again, and -
“Dance with me.”
Kacchan’s fingers were linking with Deku’s now, pulling him into a room with couches pushed to the walls and a floor heaving with hot, sticky bodies. The rebuttal laid on Deku’s lips, but Kacchan was smiling at him expectantly with those devil eyes and his palm was hot in his own and, well, fuck it.
The crowd was dizzying, a maddening thrust and thrum of bodies and music intertwined. When everyone threw their hands up to a song, the beer and booze in their cups flung through the air like rain, matting Deku’s curls and splashing across Kacchan’s collarbones and chest.
Their skin was tacky to the touch, and Deku wished he could lean in and taste the junction of jaw and throat where he could see the sweat begin to drip. Kacchan would taste sweet and tart, he knew. The only sweet thing about his best friend.
“Deku!”
Dazed, brains sloshing around in his skull, Deku spun at the sound of his name and grinned as Ochako bounded up with a bright smile and rosy cheeks.
“Deku, hey! I didn’t expect to see you here!”
“Who’s that?” Kacchan’s voice in Deku’s ear, mouth right against his fucking skin like Satan himself on his shoulder.
“There’s no way,” Deku murmured aside to him. “Don’t even try. She’s nice.”
“I like nice,” Kacchan said, and the smile in his voice skittered an electric shine down Deku’s spine.
“No you don’t,” Deku hissed as Ochako made it through the crowd to reach him for a hug.
“Hi!” Deku smiled until his cheeks hurt, keeping his back pointedly to Kacchan. “I just dropped in for a little. My friend dragged me. You want to get out of this room - it’s loud!”
“Sure!” Ochako hooked a soft arm in Deku’s, her own smile faltering as she glanced past Deku. “Is that your friend?”
“No,” Deku said shortly, leading her out into the foyer.
“You little shit!” was all he heard beneath the roaring din of music before Deku escaped with Ochako entirely.
“What are you doing here?” Deku asked, his frame relaxing as soon as their proximity widened from Kacchan.
“Oh.” Ochako’s cheeks flushed as she glanced around. “Mina brought me? Do you - you know her, right? Pink hair, big boo-”
“I, uh, yeah.” Mina was one of the only girls he never had to actively butter up before introducing her to Kacchan. Those two had similar agendas. Nothing wrong with it, especially when they’d seemed to get along so well for a while. Deku did have to wonder what had happened between them. “Where is she?”
“Beer pong,” Ochako said, yelping as a whole mess of massive guys broke through the front door and filled the foyer to the brim.
“Woah there!” Deku laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her close and lightly drag her away from the assault of dudes ready to get their drink on. “That was close.”
“O-oh, yes, I mean, yeah, it was.” Ochako’s chest heaved against Deku’s as she gazed up at him, eyes a little glazed. For a second, Deku was going to ask if she was drunk or stoned, but -
Ah, shit.
“Anyway,” Deku chirped, his voice cracking as he pointedly released her and gave them a berth of an entire body. Mixed messages were not his thing. “Want a drink?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, um -” Deku looked around, realizing the foyer was so packed with bodies that they could barely move. He gestured to the staircase, cordoned off with tacky yellow crime scene tape. “Sit there? I don’t want to lose you.”
“Sounds good to me.” Ochako smiled at him and Deku had to hide his own flinch. Oh no.
“I’ll just -” Deku gestured awkwardly between himself and the direction of the kitchen. “Over there. Er -”
He cut himself off, sprinting between the ocean of sweaty, beer-slicked bodies laughing too loud, for once thankful of his stature when it meant sneaking through crowds with relative ease. Bursting into the kitchen with a gasp of fresh air - or, fresher than the skunky clouds of weed hovering in the hallway - Deku beelined for the beers and figured he’d take it easier than the hard liquor tonight.
“You’re full of shit,” said a familiar voice, throaty and feminine and full of laughter. Deku stopped behind the keg settled on the island counter and peeked around it to see Mina herself with a hand palming the nape of Kacchan’s neck. Judging by the murderous expression on Kacchan’s face, Mina wasn’t telling him anything he wanted to hear. “You’re still doing this? When are you gonna tell him -”
“Mina,” Deku said, offering a wobbly smile when the both of them whipped heads around to stare. “H-hi. Hey. Er, did I interrupt -”
“Nothing,” Kacchan snapped, his previous good mood from the dance floor dissipated in an apparent incoming storm. “Fuck you.”
Deku blinked, looking around.
“Who, me? I -”
“Yeah, you!” Kacchan rounded the counter and shoved at Deku’s shoulders, stumbling him back, but Kacchan’s predatory eyes were locked on him, sharp and fuming as he closed in a second time for another push.
Deku ducked out in the last second and smacked Kacchan upside the head with an open palm.
“Hey!” Deku snapped, more than used to a lifetime of Kacchan getting riled over something totally unrelated to him and turning around to take it out on his bestie. “Stop. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Mina?”
“Hey.” Mina held up her hands, a dozen sparkling bracelets jangling as she shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “I’m staying out it. Once I realized, I stepped out fast, I promise.”
Deku frowned.
“Realized…”
“I’m outta here,” Kacchan said, turning on his heel as he exited the kitchen, swiping a half-empty fifth of whiskey on his way out. “Don’t need your help for shit.”
Gawking between Kacchan’s dramatic escape and Mina’s amused expression, Deku sputtered.
“I - uh - wait. I was just, just getting a drink for Ochako and -”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, cutie.” Mina plucked her solo cup from the cluttered countertop and raised it in a cheers. “It’ll sort itself out.”
“It?” Deku parroted. “Are we talking about Kacchan’s dick or -”
Mina’s peal of laughter as she left the room only left him increasingly confused.
“There you are!” Deku was breathing hard from rushing through a group of girls who, inexplicably, had assaulted him with pocketfuls of glitter as he struggled to get out the back door. If that wasn’t some weird gay metaphor, he wasn’t sure what was.
Kacchan’s narrowed eyes would have pierced him through had they not been so glassy and fucked over. He was trailing behind his familiar jock friends, heading back into the house as Deku had been rushing out. Deku hadn’t been able to find him in what had to be an hour, maybe more. The house was too big for its own good, and entering certain rooms had required a toll of shots, all of them in sickly neon colors that turned Deku’s stomach even as he’d downed them.
“Wait, Kat-” Deku gripped Kacchan’s arm, gaping when Kacchan flicked him off and pushed him aside. “Hey!”
“Leave me ‘lone!” Kacchan snapped, words slurred and heavy as he brushed past him, his shoulder heavy against Deku’s own tipsy frame. “Gonna have a beer shower.”
Deku blinked, his beer-slowed brain kicking into gear just before he watched Kacchan cram himself into a tiny bathroom along with Kirishima, Shindo, and Sero.
“Oh no,” he whispered, rushing forward. “No, no beer showers please. The last time I had to help you get beer out of places I never want to -”
“‘Scuse me, Deku!” Denki’s cheerful voice chimed in as he squashed himself into the bathroom, cradling beers by the armful. Deku looked on in mounting horror as the boys began to take off their shoes and socks, Sero having to sit on the floor to accomplish the removal of his fucking flip-flops. “Who’s got the knives?”
“Why is this my life,” Deku whispered, rubbing hands over his numbed face as he heard Shindo call the affirmative. Of course that asshole was carrying a multitude of knives. That guy was kinky as hell and Deku wasn’t going near him after that bizarre incident in sophomore year involving jello and his unholy cabinet of vibrators.
“Hey, Deku.” From the floor, Sero held up a phone with a wild grin. “Can you record this?”
“I, ugh, I mean, yeah. Fine.” With a sigh, Deku readied himself as the guys stepped into the tub, cramped as hell with Bakugou pressed up against the far wall, the back of his head knocking against the shower head. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Hey,” Kirishima whined as Denki struggled to fit in the bath. “Don’t stab me!”
“Please,” Deku stressed, “No one stab anyone.”
“Ready?” Denki hollered, already laughing, his entire face red with glee before they’d even begun. Silently, everyone assumed the position of holding a single can over beer over their head, their mouths tipped up. “Go!”
Five knives wielded by five drunk assholes pierced a single hole through the bottom of their beer cans, the shriek of the exiting alcohol instantly silenced as they sealed their mouths around the puncture and guzzled.
Predictably, Kirishima choked on the fast flow and tore his mouth from the can, beer spraying into his eyes and face as he screamed and laughed. Shindo, the beast that he was, crushed his emptied can in a fist and dropped it into the tub with a hoot of victory, almost instantly followed by Kacchan and a curse, then Sero’s giggles as he spat out a mouthful of beer into Denki’s face. Denki released his own empty can, but his other hand seemed to think it needed to do the same as the first, and so the knife plummeted, blade-side down.
Everyone, including Kacchan, screamed like a parking lot full of seagulls as they rushed from the bathtub, as if the knife were specifically out to get them, and Deku turned and high tailed it out of the doorway, Sero’s phone in hand.
“Guys!” Deku screeched. “You’re running with knives - do you idiots realize you’re running with fucking -”
Wheezing as an arm tackled around his waist and dragged him into another room, Deku boggled up at Kacchan, whose hair stuck out in all directions from some previous beer spray for which Deku hadn’t been present.
“Who’s an idiot?” Kacchan asked, still wrapped around Deku.
Distracted by more important things than his hormonal, horny best friend for once, Deku spun in Kacchan’s hold, searching for the knife he wondered if Kacchan was still holding. Sure enough, the pocket knife was still clenched in one fist and Deku sighed, snatching it away and closing it safely for holding in his own pocket.
“Hey,” Kacchan slung both arms over Deku’s shoulders from behind, his breath hot and heavy as his full weight leaning drunkenly into Deku. “Gimme tha’ back. S’mine.”
“Yeah, well, it’s mine until tomorrow,” Deku said, elbowing Kacchan in the gut before wincing and realizing that hadn’t been the best idea.
So when they got kicked out of the party for Kacchan puking down the shirt of one of the hosts, Deku took it as equally both of their faults.
He was just happy to be breathing real life, night time air as they stumbled out the front door from which they’d arrived just three hours before.
Deku hummed as he raised his face to the clear, starry sky, inhaling deep as his head swam with just enough shots to keep him from stringing together his disappointment with this night of instant and intense insanity. Kacchan rarely went off on him, these days - not in any serious way, at least. He was used to moody, brooding Kacchan and sharp, snappy Kacchan filled with anxiety over something or other.
The Kacchan who pushed and shoved at him with angry, accusing eyes - that was something long past. Or so Deku had thought.
Just what had he and Mina argued about?
“What?” Kacchan looked over with a scowl as they wobbled down the sidewalk, and Deku realized he’d spoken aloud. “None ‘a yer business is what.”
“Seemed like my business,” Deku said, unafraid of his best friend after so many years of facing that scowl day in and out. “You made it mine, anyway. Asshole.”
Kacchan gawked.
“I - me? Me the asshole? You are the asshole, you - you -”
“You’re the asshole for making me come in the first place,” Deku shot back, and he definitely wasn’t pouting as he accidentally bumped into a wrought iron bench and cursed, his foot smarting a little, but probably even worse in the morning.
“I just wanted to get fuckin’ laid!” Kacchan yelled, his voice cracking, as if Deku was being entirely unreasonable here. “Gimme a fuckin’ break, man. You know how hard it is to be the best at everything?”
“Oh, here we go,” Deku said with an eye roll and a laugh. “Please, spare me. Do you know how shitty it is to follow you around parties like you’re a single dad bringing his cute baby to the park in hopes to get some chick’s number? I’m not here to attract joggers or desperate, lonely housewives.”
“Fuck you,” Kacchan muttered, but the heat in his voice had dropped to a simmer as he slouched into himself, hands pocketed as they both made their unbalanced way toward their close to campus apartment complex. They didn’t speak for the rest of the journey, and the more depressed and slumped Kacchan appeared, the more the niggling guilt crept beneath Deku’s skin.
He knew he had zero reason to feel bad. He also knew he hated seeing Kacchan, the infallible hero of his adolescence, down in the dumps.
“I’ll do you,” Deku said as Kacchan was taking off his shoes in the entryway.
Kacchan didn’t seem to be listening as he dropped onto his ass, head lolling to the side, glassy eyes raising to meet Deku’s.
“Hah?”
Deku sighed and crouched to help Kacchan with his socks. Head bowed, he began to untie his own sneakers as he spoke quietly.
“I mean, if it’s so important, you can - er. You know, you can do me.”
“Do?” Kacchan asked, eyebrows raised, his face sweetly clueless and drunk as all hell.
Talk about Kacchan being a douche. Deku was the scumbag, offering this while Kacchan was wasted. But hell, there was no chance he’d agree. No chance he’d even remember this conversation. Deku had seen Kacchan get fucked up enough times to know he’d hold barely a memory of this moment.
“Do…” Deku reached out, cupped the nape of Kacchan’s hot, beer-sticky neck and leaned in. “Me.”
Before Kacchan could react or reply, their lips met, the kiss firm and quick before Deku parted, his eyes wide and a little manic as he watched Kacchan’s face for a reaction.
Kacchan blinked, his mouth moving like a goldfish.
“Do you,” he repeated, voice thick and low with the weight of amber liquor. “Wait, what?”
“Oh my god, Kacchan, I’m saying fuck me!” Deku held Kacchan’s face in both his hands, shook him just a little as he spoke. “Fuck me, you idiot! I’m offering myself up here, so just say no already!”
“‘Kay,” Kacchan murmured, heavy-lidded eyes low and focused on Deku’s mouth as he subtly tilted his cheek into Deku’s palm. His exhale was shallow and shaky, breath sour with sick and beer. Deku had seen his best friend in every which way - none of this made him want the man in front of him any less. That was his own curse. “Yeah, okay. This ‘s your fault, anyway.”
Deku would have taken offence had his beer brain not promptly drained out of his skull with Kacchan’s simple agreement. His entire world spiraled down the drain, his heart spinning around and around until Deku was dizzy with it.
There were a dozen ways he should have replied. Decent, good things he could have said so he could continue to convince himself that he was indeed a decent, good guy.
Instead he whispered, fuck it, and shoved his tongue down Kacchan’s throat, swallowing the gasp of surprise and the moan that followed.
And oh hell, if Kacchan’s hands weren’t skilled even half out of his mind with whiskey, busy and frantic beneath Deku’s t-shirt to yank it over his head and catch Deku’s mouth with a needy, fevered kiss of sloppy tongue and short, impatient grunts as they grappled each other to their feet and stumbled down the short, shadowed corridor.
They’d touched each other a thousand times in this life. In pain and anger, happiness and laughter, in help and in violence - but never like this. Never the strained, barely-staunched strength shining from Kacchan’s touch as he turned Deku around and shoved him face-first onto the bed, palms riding Deku’s bared shoulders, back, hips.
Kacchan groaned, kneading the rise of Deku’s ass through his jeans as Deku canted his hips for him, delirious in the act of utter wrongness radiating from this and them and where Kacchan’s fingers were sneaking as he smeared his lips down the range of Deku’s arching spine in hot, wet kisses.
“You ever - ah!” Deku bit the blanket of Kacchan’s bed and inhaled his familiar, smoky musk as those urgent hands tugged down jeans and boxers in one with a tight sound at the heart of Kacchan’s throat. The cool air on Deku’s ass was like a slap to the senses - one more chance to get this right and walk away.
Instead, Deku sat up and peered over his shoulder, waiting until Kacchan’s hungry gaze dragged from the curve of his presented backside to Deku’s face. Kacchan swallowed hard and Deku licked his lips.
“You ever fucked someone in the ass?” Deku murmured, eyes downcast as even the alcohol couldn’t bolster him enough to watch Kacchan’s face as he waited for a reply.
“Wanna find out?” Kacchan rasped, leaning in to grip Deku’s chin, jerk his face up, and capture another kiss.
Neither of them needed to hear the answer. They helped each other out of their clothes, but it was less of a help and more of a race, who could get off what the fastest, because some things just never change even if you’re about to fuck each other into oblivion.
Boy, did Deku want Kacchan to fuck him into oblivion.
“C’mere,” Deku whispered into the shadowed room that reflected all of Kacchan; felt like him, smelled like him, the walls breathed like him as he sat Kacchan on the end of the bed and straddled thighs made for fighting, for running, for Deku to finally touch and admire and moon over. “D’you have -”
“Stay,” was all Kacchan commanded, the intensity of his gaze not lost in the darkness, even if the color was. His arm banded around Deku’s waist and held him tight, their cocks a new and fantastic friction between as Deku gasped and shifted his hips into it - only to yelp with a short, befuddled laugh when Kacchan laid back, his free arm stretching over his head and back toward the bedside table.
“I could just get off your -”
“I said stay, didn’ I?” Kacchan snapped, the whiskey still playing a different tune to the way normally spoke.
With a breathless laugh, Izuku reached past Kacchan’s head, scooting up Kacchan’s stomach to reach the drawer and retrieve what was needed. He swore he heard Kacchan mumble something like a curse or an adoration or both as he seemed to busy himself with palming Izuku’s ass, hands trailing down to squeeze at the backs of his thighs, fingertips sneaking up between them.
When Kacchan brushed over Izuku’s asshole with a questioning little noise, every remaining thought scattered and Izuku could only startle and gasp at the exploration, his brow dropping to rest upon Kacchan’s shoulder. A sizzling heat had already begun to spark and simmer through his blood, that feverish wash flooding through his limbs, leaving him weakened and pliant as he collapsed atop the full length of Kacchan’s body, giving in to the rut of hips to Kacchan’s stomach and leaking cock.
“I really, ah -” Deku fumbled with the lube and condom in his fist, his erection sliding at an unsteady pace against Kacchan’s, those harsh, sharp grunts and groans sounding in his ear only urging him on. “I really need you to fuck me now, okay? Okay, I’m like, fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for -”
“Talk so damn much,” Kacchan mumbled, sitting up too fast, Deku’s equilibrium tilting as he eked a sound of distress and clung arms around Kacchan’s sticky shoulders. Briefly, Deku huffed a laugh at the idea that fucking Kacchan unshowered after a party was like fucking on a bar room floor, but he’d keep that to himself for now.
The humor flared up and out as quick as it had come, anyway, because Kacchan was actually following instructions for once in his life, both arms around Deku’s waist and messing with the lube behind Deku’s back.
“Gonna fuck that mouth right off ‘a ya,” Kacchan slurred, sounding sleepy and husky despite the rock hard cock Deku curiously wrapped his fingers around. Kacchan bit off a sharp, alert cuss, and that was enough to have Deku grinning just a second before he whined around the first confident finger sliding and stretching through him.
“M-more than that,” Deku urged, way past one finger to start. Despite sharing an apartment and before that a dorm and before that, sharing their entire adolescence together, Deku sure as hell knew that Kacchan didn’t know just how good he was with his ass. “Come on, fuck me, fuck - ah!”
“Holy shit, Deku,” Kacchan breathed at Deku’s ear, the devil on his shoulder once more, the devil all around him and in him and hell, if that wasn’t what Deku always wanted every time he had to pass Kacchan off to some girl who wouldn’t savor every part of him like Deku could and would and did now. He dropped his hips down on those two beautiful fingers, knowing how skilled Kacchan’s hands were at a hundred other things in this life, but now knowing they were even better at this.
“Like that,” Deku murmured, mindless and incensed as he rolled his cock against Kacchan’s in his hand, took them both clumsily in his fingers as Kacchan fucked up into him with heavy, staccato breaths, like Kacchan was the one getting split open instead of Deku. “That, right there - fuck, more, okay? More.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now,” Kacchan said, words fumbling over the other in the rush of his disbelief, something that might have been a laugh or a moan as Deku swirled their precum around the crown of Kacchan’s cock. “Right, fuck, need to -”
“Yeah - yeah, yes.” Deku nodded enthusiastically, unthinking but for more more more, and the arm keeping him safe and close around his waist and the hand driving him to madness with each thrust and scissor and spread and slick-slap sound. “Now now now.”
“Right, I -” Kacchan’s fingers slipped away and Deku sobbed once, wrecked, face smashed into the broad mountain of Kacchan’s shoulder, hand still working their slippery cocks, the scent of sex and sweat and whiskey all sour and heavy and humid in the air.
Deku could hear Kacchan having trouble with the condom wrapper when he was doing the thing with arms around Deku and behind is back, but helping him out was struck from the list as Deku blinked down between them, mesmerized by the feel and look of their erections together.
“Shit,” Kacchan snapped. “Gotta - you gotta gimme a break or I’ll - fuck, Deku, it’s on it’s -”
Releasing Kacchan at once, Deku reached behind and shifted his quivering thighs apart, hand sure around Kacchan’s dick once more as he dropped down on it slow and steady and greedy to be filled.
Words escaped him - none that were any good, anyway. There was only the strangled sound of Kacchan attempting and failing at control, the burn of his palms on Deku’s thighs, fingertips a bruising grip, the mingled scent of them, the play of shadow across Kacchan’s severe features, and the way his eyes were wide and soft with wonder.
But there wasn’t any time for that. Deku knew this chance wouldn’t come again, and that his best friend was straight as an arrow, and that a hole was a hole was ho-ooohgod.
“Holy fuck,” Kacchan choked out, hands groping past Deku’s waist, hips, thighs, and around the spread his asscheeks apart as Deku wrapped arms around Kacchan’s shoulders and began to rock into that thick cock. “Holy - so tight, fuck, Deku, you’re so -”
Deku moaned into Kacchan’s beer-stiff spikes of hair, inhaling musky green weed and the dredges of bright amber cologne. His grip constricted around Kacchan as he used his hold on Deku’s ass to ease him down and up, just over the crown of Kacchan’s cock with a wet, solid pop every time Deku pulled his hips away. Deku could already feel the orgasm twisting and riling red around his dick and balls with every tease of Kacchan stretching his sensitive hole.
Hissing loud and sharp, Deku bottomed out with a loud slap of ass to Kacchan’s thighs, a tipsy, empowered smile playing at his lips when Kacchan’s groan scraped long and desperate through the air, fingernails breaking the skin of Deku’s thighs.
“You should have taken me home,” Deku whispered into Kacchan’s ear. And the rest was oblivion.
Deku rode that cock like it was the last thing he’d ever do with his final breaths, split himself at the seams and spread for Kacchan to see every ugly thing about him, including this night that Deku would never forget and Kacchan inevitably would. But Kacchan wasn’t looking at all the ugly, he was looking at Deku, into Deku, their eyes locked, Kacchan’s gaze huge and gawking, like the sober part was wrestling for the reality of this while the wasted side reveled in debauchery.
Between them, Deku’s cock bounced heavy and too full, dribbling over them both - but Deku refused to touch it himself, intent on angling the thrust of his hips to piercing him right where it counted. Kacchan picked up the rhythm fast, his breathing hard, his thighs sweating beneath Deku as he drove into him with increasing delirium across his reddened features.
Whiskey reeked from Kacchan’s pores and Deku didn’t fucking care, his tongue breaking past Kacchan’s parted lips to devour and lick and mouth at him like they’d entirely forgotten how to kiss in the first place. The sounds punching from Kacchan’s throat were like nothing Deku had ever heard through their shared wall during nights Deku came into his lonely hand with a sob.
Now the bright, wet smacks were his own, in and around him, climbing faster and feral until Deku’s world ripped at the skin, cherry red splashes behind his shut eyes as he came. His wail was broken and cut off by shocks of shudders and quakes as he clung to Kacchan and forcibly milked him dry in turn. Every pulse of Kacchan’s cock inside him rippled through Deku in technicolor as he cried out with each wave that trembled through lax muscle and melted bones, until Kacchan collapsed and slipped out, taking Deku with him in his arms.
Reeling in body and mind, Deku rolled off the disheveled, unintelligibly mumbling sack of gorgeous human that vaguely resembled his best friend, were it not for the completely slack look of dumb intoxication and shock he was sporting. Maybe he always looked like this after he came. Deku didn’t have a comparison point.
Deku caught his breath, staring at the speckled ceiling cast in cool grey. He wanted to cuddle. Wanted to curl up in the slim curve of Kacchan’s waist and use the swell of his chest for a pillow. Wanted to ask how that was, how it had felt for him.
Instead, Deku sat up, peeled the condom from a now snoring Kacchan’s flaccid dick to dispose of the mess, collected his clothes, and silently padded to his own room. He shut his door, locked it, and fell face first onto a bed that smelled nothing of Kacchan and only of him.
Despite the beer that had all but entirely replaced his brains for the night and the heavy drape of physical contentment across his body, Deku didn’t sleep very well at all.
What the fuck.
Naked in a room that stank of skunky weed and sex, Katsuki sat at the edge of his bed and stared into the tiny trash can and the lonely, tied-off condom at the bottom.
“What the fuck.”
Katsuki winced at the sandpaper sound and feel of his voice and stood, the sickly pulse behind his eyes increasing in pressure as he blearily squinted around the room. His body ached pleasantly in contrast to his ashtray mouth - had he smoked, no, he definitely hadn’t smoked - and crunchy, dried beer hair.
Absently scratching at his itchy stomach, Katsuki eyed his bed, noting that he’d definitely slept on top of the covers. Naked. Starfished out. Just what -
“What the fuck,” Katsuki muttered in confusion, face crumpling as he realized his skin itched from what was absolutely-definitely dried jizz. “What the - OH SHIT.”
Like a slingshot stretched back to the limit, a barrage of memories hurled at his hungover brain mush and embedded in his skull with a ferocity that left him reeling.
“Oh.” Katsuki stared at the bed, eyes bulging and painful in his face, hands fisting briefly in his hair with the moment of pure, realized horror. “Oh shit. Oh shit, oh -”
Without thinking, Katsuki whipped open the bedroom door in the nude and skidded into the hallway and down, frantic to assure himself that the image of Deku bent over his bed with his ass offered up like a buffet had completely not not not happened.
Deku’s cluttered bedroom was empty. The bed made, the fresh minty green scent of his shampoo still lingering, watery grey light from the window dimming the quiet space. A red t-shirt lay on the floor in blaring accusation, and Katsuki remembered tearing it over Deku’s head in the shadows, remembered red and more red - Deku’s lips, his tongue, his cock between them.
Katsuki’s entire face burned, a hot flush washing through his body and curling dark and thick in his belly.
“Oh, shit.”
A shrill ring from the other room nearly shocked him out of his skin as Katsuki whirled from the room, panic still a static and buzz in his head, the backdrop sound to a mute film starring a very naked, debauched Deku riding his cock like no one had ever done.
This was not reality.
Marching up to the pile of clothes on his floor, Katsuki rummaged through his jeans and unearthed his phone, wincing when he saw Kirishima calling. The last thing he needed right now was sunshine shitting out the other end of the phone. He was in the middle of a panic over here.
“What,” Katsuki answered, one hand on his hip as he did a slow turn of his room, critically eyeing it as if he’d glean more answers from the furniture and walls. While his bed had indeed seen some shit in the past, this was a new level.
If it had really happened. Which it absolutely had not. This was simply the wettest of wet dreams. A typhoon. The fact that it been about his best friend was…
He was not going to think about that while on the phone.
“Where are you, bro?” Kirishima’s voice came through in genuine concern. “We were all meeting for hangover after-party lunch, remember? Deku is here but he said he didn’t want to wake you up. Rough night? You seemed kinda -”
“Suddenly a guy can’t sleep in past noon?” Katsuki went to run a hand through his hair and winced as it got stuck in whatever had sprayed into it the night before. “Fuck’s sake. I’m gonna - I’m gonna shower and I’ll be there. Have -”
Katsuki’s eyes widened as he dropped to a crouch and unearthed a pair of boxers that were one-hundred percent not his and two-hundred percent Deku’s. The ceiling could collapse atop his naked body right now and he would welcome it.
“Have Deku order for me,” Katsuki finished in a quiet voice, hanging up before he could catch a reply.
Standing in the center of the scene of the crime, Katsuki stared at the underwear in his hand like it was fucking scorpion about the sting and stab at him.
Again, the static swarmed his ears as the show in his brain played for him Deku’s wrecked expression, plush mouth open wide in a cry as he came around Katsuki’s dick. It may have been the booze, but Katsuki had sworn he’d seen colors when he’d followed.
“What the fuck,” Katsuki whispered.
He dropped the boxers to his feet and shook his head. If he didn’t look at them he didn’t have to face - to face -
He was literally getting ready to head to lunch with Deku and the crew right now. In half an hour, he would be face to face with Deku. How the hell was he meant to ignore what he was beginning to realize may have been the most intensely visceral sex of his life?
Shower. Shower first. One step at a time.
With a headache that was slowly threatening to blind him as Katsuki’s ire increased, he soaked himself in a scalding shower, absolutely not recalling details of the previous night or how hard and soft Deku’s ass felt in his palms and how Deku took his cock like he’d been made for just that.
Anyway.
Katsuki was definitely not thinking about his best friend like some weird sex object. He wasn’t that sick or depraved. Maybe his drunk self was, but his morning-after self was not. No chance.
He definitely didn’t sniff his best friend’s shampoo for the first time in his life, either. Because that was what crazy stalkers did and he was innocent here. Nothing happened, nothing -
Wrapped in his towel, Katsuki stopped dead in his doorway and glowered at the abandoned boxers on his floor.
“Fuck,” he bit off.
He needed to get going.
“He lives!” Denki cheered from the two round tables awkwardly jammed together in the center of the tiny pizzeria they all loved and regularly haunted. “You were on the warpath to get fucked up last night, weren’t you? I saw it in your murder eyes.”
“Shut up,” Katsuki snapped as he weaved between packed tables and quickly took stock of everyone who had made it. There were always some who didn’t survive the Saturday night experience to make it to Sunday lunch, but it seemed like a good chunk of the group was here.
On one side of Denki, Kirishima was already gorging himself on the two giant pizzas taking up both tables. On the other, Jirou was showing Momo something on her phone, and Katsuki swallowed the urge to vom when he noticed Todoroki and Momo had either intentionally or unintentionally wore the same color scheme today. He wouldn’t put it past them. They had this weird, innate synchronicity about each other from dating for so long.
Shinsou was, for once in his life, quiet as he seemed to be nursing a giant iced coffee that he’d clearly snuck into the restaurant, an empty seat waiting beside him -
And then there was Deku.
Big eyes peered up at Katsuki from his spot at the table. He’d paused mid-chew, greasy strings of cheese in the limbo between slice and mouth. He looked exactly the same as he ever did. Nothing new, nothing special.
Except Katsuki knew what he looked like steadying Katsuki’s cock as he slowly eased himself down, eyelids heavy and hooded, freckles and flush high on those soft, biteable cheeks.
“Shit,” Katsuki said under his breath as he dropped with a great weight into the chair beside Deku and spread his knees wide in his instinctive slouch.
“We, uh -” Deku dropped his pizza on the tiny plate before him and wiped his hands. “We just went with a plain cheese and a supreme. You don’t care either way.”
Katsuki had absolutely no desire to eat. But just to spite himself, he grabbed a slice with everything on it and wordlessly dug in.
“Did you like the music last night?” Jirou asked, setting her phone down on the table.
“Music?” Katsuki asked as he swallowed. “Oh, right, the party. You DJed? It was good.”
“Even I danced,” Deku said, smiling softly.
Why did he look so normal, holy fuck. Katsuki wanted to tip the entire table and scream. Was he the only one here who remembered his dick was in this guy’s ass, like, mere hours ago?
Well, hopefully the only people who did remember were the two of them, because otherwise Katsuki really would need to go off. Preferably somewhere where he could break everything in the process.
From instincts honed of too many years acquainted with Shinsou and his ability to Know Things, Katsuki flicked a glance to the asshole in question beside him. Shinsou appeared absolutely morose as he sipped his coffee through the straw, his eyes nearly closed.
“The fuck happened to you?” Katsuki asked, taking another bite of his pizza. If he didn’t look at, face, or acknowledge Deku’s presence, everything would be fine. Fine and normal and not having fucked your best friend in the ass.
“It’s a blur,” Shinsou muttered, his voice hoarse and muted. “Monoma drove me, I don’t know, two hours off campus to this barn? Not like a club that looked like a barn, it was just a literal barn. Barn rave. Rave in a barn. I’m - I don’t know how am I alive. Am I alive?”
“Unfortunately.” Katsuki eyed Shinsou with a brief moment of pity. “Eat.”
“Ever heard of acid flashbacks?” Shinsou asked, taking another long drag from his straw like it was lifeblood.
“I feel like you’re going to enlighten us anyway,” Jirou said, lips quirking. She looked absolutely fucking fine. That’s what happened when you were in charge of the music. Less time to fuck up your entire body and brain for the night.
“It’s like -” Shinsou shoved an entire square of pizza in his mouth and began to chew, slowly, eyes half-mast like a goddamn baby nearly asleep and eating. Everyone waited, exchanging glances. “It’s like, you do acid and you randomly get hallucination flashbacks days or weeks after the incident.”
Momo made a noise like a concerned mother.
“Are you - is this happening now?”
“Me?” Shinsou frowned. “No. Just looking at the way Bakugou dresses reminded me of it. That's a lot of orange.”
“Fuck you, shitbag.” Katsuki slouched further in his seat at the laughter rising from the tables and, without thinking, snatched Deku’s soda and drank. It was a normal action under any other circumstances, until he met Deku’s eyes and found them locked on him with a dark intensity that didn’t match the mood of the group at all.
“Are you okay?” Momo asked Katsuki, now. “You look pale. Do you need a bucket? I’m sure we can get you a trash can.”
“I don’t need a fuckin’ bucket,” Katsuki muttered, shoving the drink back toward Deku’s plate. The presence beside him, so normally comforting and solid and sure, felt oppressive, large. “Just tired.”
“Long night, huh?” Denki said with a lewd and obvious wink. Katsuki rolled his eyes, but Denki bulldozed forward in his idiocy. “You finally catch some tail, Bakugou? At first I thought you went home with Deku, but -”
“Went what?” Katsuki barked, eyes narrowing as panic encroached up his spine and wavered in his unsettled stomach. “Went home with who? The fuck you think I -”
“I mean you didn’t get lucky, dude.” Denki held up his hands in innocence, glancing between Deku and Bakugou with a wavering laugh, looking for some kind of recognition.
“Right,” Bakugou snapped. “I know. I mean, no. Deku was no fuckin’ help last night.”
“Good,” Jirou said, picking at the black scraps of polish remaining on her nails. “That shit is disgusting. Find a girlfriend like a normal guy. Tinder.”
“Tinder is not for girlfriends,” Todoroki said, the only wisdom he was about to pass on today, apparently. “Tinder is for -”
“Let’s not repeat any of my words of wisdom at the table,” Shinsou interrupted quickly, eyes flickering nervously to the disapproving lady stares aimed his way.
“I told him I was done with that stuff,” Deku said, voice reasonable and calm as he picked the cheese off his pizza and ate only that. Katsuki was encountering a distinct problem in not watching that mouth. “There are plenty of people who’ll fuck him. He only needs to look in front of him and open his mouth like a normal person.”
“I think it’s the ‘normal’ part that’s challenging him,” Shinsou said, followed by a jaw-cracking yawn.
“I think Bakugou has a lot going for himself!” This from Kirishima, who had apparently finished devouring half of an eighteen inch pie. “He just needs to -”
“I think Bakugou can handle his fucking self,” Katsuki said between clenched teeth. “Can we not talk about who I’m fucking, you goddamn gremlins.”
“Why?” Jirou asked, dark brows raised. “You usually never shut up about it.”
Katsuki gawked.
“I do n-”
“I’m heading to the library after this,” Deku said, voice a little breathless and rushed as he zipped up his hoodie and searched his back pocket to bring out his wallet. “I’ve got a big paper coming and -”
“Aw, come on,” Kirishima all but wailed. “Stay, stay!”
Everyone but Katsuki chimed in with their complaints, urging Deku to remain even as he rose from the table and dropped some cash on the table with a tight, apologetic curve of lips.
“Sorry, guys. Duty calls. We still on for D&D Tuesday?”
Katsuki tuned the fuckers out.
Then, without so much as a look back or a goodbye to Katsuki, Deku walked out of the room and took all of Katsuki’s unanswered questions with him.
Deku spent the majority of the next seven days walking out of rooms into which Kacchan had stepped.
This was becoming a theme, and while Deku wasn’t entirely sure it was the appropriate one for this scenario, it was the only one with which he was willing to run. He wasn’t the cowardly type, nor was he one to hide his feelings - in fact, he was notorious for spilling them out all over himself and everyone in the vicinity. He wasn’t afraid to feel or to show what he felt.
But he was afraid of this, and them, and what he’d done and who he did it to.
And the fact that Kacchan never pursued when Deku escaped spoke volumes to both of their anxieties.
To put it bluntly, Deku had fucked up and Kacchan obviously felt the same. The problem arose in how the two of them dealt with their issues. Deku went quiet and Kacchan, well -
Kacchan was ready to show the world just how not-gay he was.
The parade of chicks coming in and out of their apartment set a new precedent of heteronormativity. Deku spent most of his time out of their home entirely because he did not want to be there when Kacchan did eventually fuck someone through a wall or the floor. And the screeching - it was unbearable. Headphones could not cancel out that noise.
While a part of Deku wanted to break down the door and drag the girl by the hair, the majority of him was mainly annoyed with the change in their routine and hoped Kacchan would be done proving his masculinity sometime soon. When Deku had walked out of his bedroom that night, it had been with the knowledge that they’d never do what they did, ever again.
He hadn’t expected Kacchan to remember that night, which kind of threw a dick-sized wrench into the entire thing, but it seemed like Kacchan was equally, if not more interested than Deku in never repeating their bestie fuck of the century.
So Kacchan kept bringing girls home, Deku kept not being home, and their worlds kept on turning. Only, for the first time in a long time, maybe since they’d been in kindergarten, their worlds were spinning parallel rather than together.
That wasn’t a great feeling. And it was Deku’s fault. He knew it was his own fault. Talk about fucking everything up, both literally and figuratively.
Then, as turning worlds were prone to do, Saturday arrived again.
“You sure you’re alright?” Mina asked, dipping her face into Katuski’s periphery as they meandered back to the apartment. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so down in the dumps.”
“S’none of your business,” Katsuki muttered, pocketing his hands with a slouch.
Discontent knotted his shoulders and neck with an almost visceral pain, an ache that wouldn’t subdue no matter how many willing chicks he’d fucked this week or how often he got drunk. He’d ended up at Mina’s place on automatic - she always had some kind of shit going down on a Saturday afternoon - but had ended up in the far corner of the room, sick of the taste of alcohol, soberly thumbing through his phone.
“Want a blowjob or something?” Mina asked with a frown.
Katsuki grimaced.
“Fuck no. Keep your teeth away from me.”
“Hey, I was only offering out of the kindness of my heart. It’s not like you were the best lay ever, anyway.”
“I hope you don’t have any long standing attachment to that mouth a yours, ‘cause you’re bound lose it any second.”
Mina clucked her tongue and bumped at Katsuki’s side as they strolled down amber lit streets.
“You’re such a fucking downer. I mean, normally, yes, but right now even more. Tell me what happened. I won’t gossip.”
“More bullshit. Why you walkin’ me home from your own party, anyway? We’re not friends.”
“Ouch.” Mina held a hand to her breast, grinning all the same. “You really are a piece of work tonight. Come on, big guy, out with it. I mean, I have my educated guesses, but…”
“I’ve seen your GPA and I’m not impressed,” Katsuki said, pointedly not catching her eye. Where Mina underachieved in studies, she excelled in coercion. She was obnoxious as fuck and relentless with it. At the same time, she was never mean spirited or shitty to people, and Katsuki could privately appreciate that about her.
“How about one word?” Mina said, a know-it-all sing song to her voice as they climbed the stairs of Katsuki’s apartment building. “Deku.”
Katsuki was good at a hell of a lot. Holding in his emotions was not one of them. Masking his features from telling a story was another.
So he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he nearly choked on his own spit and promptly dropped his keys down the stairwell in one glorious fuck up.
“That was your fault!” Katsuki hissed, pointing accusingly down the stairs as he ignored the burn of his face. “Go get those!”
But Mina was busy leaning against the door of Katsuki’s apartment, busting a gut and wiping mascara from her eyes. Apparently Katsuki had to do every fucking thing these days.
Like his best friend. He definitely had done his best friend. That was a thing that happened. Seven days of denial was close to insanity, and Katsuki wasn’t insane, just a douchebag, apparently.
By the time he’d retrieved his keys and returned to his door, it was wide open and dread was a very real thing creeping up Katsuki’s throat as he peeked inside.
“Just how drunk is he?” Deku was saying, exhaustion heavy in his voice, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“Oh, he’s not. I embarrassed him and he dropped his keys.”
“Embarrassed?” Deku cracked a grin, then - the first one Katsuki had seen in their week of avoidance. Something tender and bruised tugged in Katsuki’s chest, something he promptly stomped on with a scowl as he leaned in the doorway in full, not making a secret of listening in. “How?”
“He really only has one sensitive spot, doesn’t he?” Mina said with a knowing curve of very pink lips.
Deku’s entire face blew up red.
“I - wh- he’s not -”
“I think we’re thinking of entirely different spots,” Mina said, already laughing that bawdy, naughty laugh she had.
“Wait - what are you -”
“You,” Mina said, emphatic. “You are.”
Deku frowned, even as the panic in Katsuki screamed from every pore.
“Me? What am I? Are you drunk?”
“You can go,” Katsuki said tightly, striding in to link an arm with Mina’s and begin to drag. “Like, now.”
“Hey! I walked you home, you should be thanking me,” Mina said, struggling and giggling in turn as Katsuki handled her toward the door.
“You walked me home to serve your own sick sense of curiosity, you sneaky bitch,” Katsuki managed between clenched teeth, but the heat didn’t really meet his words. “And now you’re here and everything is fine, right? Right, Deku? Everything is fine.”
“Uhhh.” Deku stood in their tiny, bachelor-barren living room, blinking like he’d never seen Katsuki in his life. “Yes? I mean -”
“Great, good, that’s fuckin’ great.” Katsuki shoved a grinning Mina into the corridor and heaved a sigh as he met her eyes. “See?”
“Boy, do I ever.” Mina’s smile should have cracked her face in half for how far it spread. Surreptitiously, she peered over Katsuki’s shoulder, then leaned in to whisper. “This is the same shit as before, isn’t it? You and him, him and you. I barely dated you for three weeks, but it was obvious as -”
“Fuck off already!”
Katsuki’s voice definitely did not crack like a little bitch before he slammed the door in Mina’s face. Leaning his brow against the wood, he waited until he demonic laughter faded into the distance before he allowed his taut muscles to relax.
“I fucking hate that woman.”
“You two seem to get along more than most,” Deku said from behind, an odd tone to his voice. It was almost like he was trying not to care. Which was, frankly, insane, because Deku notoriously cared about everything a million times more than any one person should. “I never understood why you stopped dating in the first place.”
Katsuki didn’t acknowledge the comment with a single word. For once, he didn’t know what to say.
My girlfriend broke up with me because she thought I wanted to bang my best friend. Two years later and it turns out she might have been right.
“Well,” Deku said, and when Katsuki finally looked at him, it was with a reticent kind of face he hadn’t seen since their childhood. Deku jerked a thumb in the vague direction of his room. “I’m just gonna -”
“Wait, hold up, hold -” As if realizing himself, Katsuki startled to a stop half way across the room, his eyes wide, face hot. “Er, I mean. Right, yeah, sure. I need to… sleep.”
“That’s a first,” Deku muttered, turning toward the hallway.
“The fuck did you just say?” Katsuki snapped, head cocked as he followed on Deku’s heels, the fire of a fight lighting up the hot, dormant coals of whatever heat he’d been attempting to extinguish all week. “You tryin’ to start shit, Deku? Because -”
In the doorway of Deku’s room, Deku spun, hands up as if to ward Katsuki off.
“I’m not,” he said, his mouth unnaturally stern and his brow scrunched. “I’m not saying a thing, Katsuki. You do you - or, them, or whatev-”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’m sorry, okay?” Katsuki blurted out, hands flying, face too close to Deku’s gawking one. “About the - the thing, the thing that happened! Are you happy now? It wasn’t - it was stupid as hell and we - and I -” had the best sex of my life “I regret it or whatever. Okay? So can we just not do this bullshit and -”
“What are you apologizing for?” Deku cut in, and holy shit, his voice and eyes were wet and Katsuki had no idea where that came from - not that he ever did, but damn, he could not keep up with this guy. “I’m - it was me. I’m the one who, who seduced you and -”
“You? Seduce me?” Katsuki barked a laugh, hands on his hips as he puffed out his chest in showmanship of his pride. “That’s not how I remember -”
“Oh, and your memory is a crystal fucking ball after a night with Jack, Johnny, and Jameson,” Deku said with an exaggerated eye roll. Why did he always have to be contrary with Katsuki and no one else, goddammit. No one ever believed Katsuki when he said Deku was a stubborn little shitbag. It was maddening. He was maddening. “Believe me, it was my fault. You didn’t even know what was happening until I told you to fuck me.”
Katsuki definitely… did not remember that interaction. The curtains of his memory parted somewhere around Deku shirtless on his bed with his ass in the air. Which was, well, a pretty special memory, all things considered. But the conversation beforehand, not so much.
Deku stared at him, bland and unimpressed despite the way his eyes sparkled with unshed tears of - of what? Was he sad, angry, frustrated? Katsuki had no idea what the fuck was wrong with this guy. Or what was wrong with himself, for that matter.
Him and Deku had always been relatively simple, at least in Katsuki’s eyes. No funny shit or complications. They stayed at each other’s side through thick and thin and that was that.
“I can tell by your face that you have less than no idea what happened,” Deku said flatly. It was weird to see him in control. Or maybe he wasn’t and he was just hiding it supremely well.
“I remember things!” Katsuki snapped, arms folded across his chest as he pointedly glared. “You - you, well -”
Deku raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t hurt yourself. We really don’t have to talk about it. I was - it was wrong of me and I’m sorry. I feel like an asshole. Like I - I ruined our friendship or -”
“Quit talkin’ like a fuckin’ girl,” Katsuki said, scrubbing hands over his face with a sigh. “It’s whatever. It’s fine. We’re fine, right? It’s fine.”
“Maybe if you say ‘fine’ one more time, it’ll be true,” Deku mumbled, glancing down at his bare feet. “Do you - did you - nevermind. I’m gonna -”
Deku began to turn, the conversation cauterized. Katsuki acted on instinct, his fist impacting the door frame beside Deku’s ear, his arm a brace across the entryway to stop Deku from running.
Deku startled, then froze in place, eyes wide on Katsuki’s own narrowed gaze, his lips softly parted in question as they stood there in thick, weighted silence.
For a moment, Deku flicked a look to Katsuki’s arm, seemed to consider ducking beneath it. Katsuki leaned in, looming and intent as his thoughts scrambled to keep up with his actions.
“Why d’you keep running from me,” Katsuki whispered, terse and low, a week’s well of frustration set to burst and overflow.
“I’m -” Deku licked his lips, attention flickering to Katsuki’s scowl and back to his eyes. “I’m not. I mean, I’m just g-giving us space to, to -”
“What were you gonna ask me?” Katsuki said, tilting his face to further invade Deku’s space. Deku smelled like that night, that much Katsuki could remember. Like mint and fresh air and the sleepy musk of someone who spent all day bundled in their bed. “Deku. When’d you turn chicken?”
Katsuki barely had time for the warning alarms to sound red and riotous in his brain when he recognized the flash in Deku’s eyes.
“Chicken?” Deku repeated, the shift in his expression almost imperceptible to a stranger. To Katsuki, it spelled out a history of the dozen fights that barreled through the path of their rowdy adolescence. “I’m the chicken?”
“You’re -”
“You -” A blunt finger jabbed against Katsuki’s chest once, then twice as Deku crowded into his space, now. “You have spent the entire week very loudly proving, with no discretion whatsoever, that you are the most heterosexual man on this entire campus. I have had no peace between one nameless girl and another, to the point where I’ve had to start sleeping with earplugs in! And as someone who is somewhat of a connoisseur of your obnoxiously ostentatious sex life, let me tell you one thing.”
Katsuki’s back bumped against the door jam where Deku had stalked him into stillness, that accusatory finger all but embedded in Katsuki’s pectoral, some bizarre mix of shock and awe keeping Katsuki dead silent as he watched Deku rile way past reasonably calming down. Deku had to have gone to his tip toes now, his chest pressing against Katsuki’s as their gazes clashed.
“One thing,” Deku enunciated, clear and staccato, their faces all too close. “The sounds you made when I fucked you were on a different planet from anything I heard come out of your bedroom with someone else. So, you know. Maybe reconsider what you’re trying to prove.”
The oxygen had evacuated the room. Katsuki was fairly certain Deku had just thrown him out of the airlock and waved goodbye to his sorry ass.
Words shrivelled and shrank on his tongue, his mouth gone hollow with absolute, encompassing shock. Katsuki’s face didn’t so much as twitch, didn’t blink or breathe as Deku’s combative stare held him at gunpoint.
“You…” Katsuki managed. That was pretty much it. He had to congratulate himself on his first ever word since Deku had both executed him and brought him back from the dead in the span of a minute.
“Yeah,” Deku croaked, a part of his bravado crumpling in on itself just a little. He could never stay mad for long. “Me. I was - I was going to ask you before I - I mean. I was going to ask you if you’d liked it, even a little. If maybe you didn’t want us to be just fine. If maybe there was something past fine, but -”
“But what?” Katsuki whispered, unsure why he was even asking. Why he was leading them on toward anything remotely like - like that.
“But you’re an idiot,” Deku finished, looking decidedly unamused by this conversation. “So, that’s problematic in itself.”
“I? I’m an idiot,” Katsuki sputtered, feeling a sense of deja vu with this conversation. “I’m the idiot here? You’re - you -”
“I was an asshole,” Deku said firmly. “I took advantage of you and you were obviously less than thrilled with it after the fact and -”
“Maybe that’s because I’d just had the best sex of my life with my best fucking friend who is also a dude and I didn’t even know how it happened or why or if I’d been the one to - to convince you or if you -”
“Woah woah woah!” For the first time in a week, Deku touched him - not in anger, but in friendship or something else, his hands sturdy and calming on Katsuki’s shoulders as he gave him a little shake. Eyes wide and a little manic, Deku searched his face with an edge of the frantic. “Wait, what, I’m - hold on, are you saying -”
“I ain’t sayin’ shit!” Katsuki bust out, like the absolute fucking idiot he was recently. He kept his mouth shut, watching confusion and distress flit across Deku’s flushed features, his hold still firm on Katsuki’s shoulders. “Shit. I mean, I said what I said. Not takin’ it back, but not repeating it either, alright?”
“You just -” Deku's cheeks went red like he’d forgotten how to breathe as he near-glared at Katsuki. “I’m sorry, I think I’m hallucinating after a full week of you fucking anyone that moves because I could swear you just said you liked -”
“I said what I said,” Katsuki said tightly, his jaw aching with the instinct to scream. To take it back, to turn around and pretend this entire scene had never taken place. But that wasn’t who he was, and nor was it Deku’s, so here they were at the world’s most awkward impasse.
“So.” Deku seemed to realize he was still holding onto Katsuki’s shoulders, because he released them as if they were aflame, his hands fumbling without anything to do. He looked down between them, and the small space that existed there somehow felt like a chasm. Here and now, anything could come out of Deku’s mouth, and Katsuki had known his best friend long enough to understand how much he didn’t understand him at times.
“So?” Katsuki snapped, arms folding across his chest to hide the hammer against his ribs. “So what? You got shit to say?”
“Do you?” Deku fired back, eyes flashing - and yeah, there he was. That was his Deku.
Katsuki wrestled with his own razor sharp tongue, found himself getting cut on all the automatic assaults he had in his arsenal since he’d been a kid. This wasn’t a situation he’d ever had to address. He’d always kind of assumed he was straight and, well, if Mina had made some pointed observations about his and Deku’s close relationship over the years, he’d chalked it up to her not understanding the depth of their friendship.
However, since the ‘depth’ of their ‘friendship’ now included the memory of Katsuki’s dick deep in Deku’s ass, their entire dynamic had taken a pretty big shift.
“Uh,” was what Katsuki ended up saying.
“Alright, well.” Deku’s mouth pursed in a soft pout as he searched Katsuki’s expression for fuck knew what, a little wrinkle marring his pale brow. “I’m just going to - I mean, can I just kiss you and find out?”
Katsuki’s eyes bulged. Had he not been pressed up against the door jam he would have taken an instinctive step in retreat.
“You’re askin’?” he croaked, pissed off by the sound of his own voice and the heat riding up his neck and cheeks.
Deku rolled his eyes.
“When did you become such a chick-”
Katsuki lunged forward, more clumsy than finessed despite the years of experience. Nothing about this Deku or what they were doing or had done was familiar or within Katsuki’s realm of knowledge. He simply did what his body had told him to do a week ago. He went with what felt right in the moment.
Deku’s curls were feathery at his nape, carded between Katsuki’s firm fingers as he pulled Deku in. Katsuki caught that short gasp of surprise on Deku’s tongue, drank it up, a taste that was newer than anything in a long time.
Neither of them stank of booze, nor were their clothes sticky with a night of poor decisions as Katsuki gripped Deku’s smooth hip beneath the hem of his shirt. Deku smelled clean and soft and rumpled like a long, lazy, midday sleep-in, his lips just as lush and inviting. Katsuki wanted to bury himself there.
When Deku jerked from Katsuki’s hold with a short, frustrated moan, Katsuki could only gawk, lightly buzzing lips open in shock.
“Deku, what the fu-”
“Wait, wait, hold on.” Deku waved his hands between them, as if that would shoo away the rising heat between them or the unfurling fire in Katsuki’s gut. “I’m just, we’re just - I need to make sure that you are -”
“I’m not drunk,” Katsuki said, taking a step into Deku’s space now, his features stern and set to a slow, intense boil as he walked Deku into the bedroom, Deku fumbling and tripping backwards into the space that smelled fresh and bright and him. “Not drunk, not confused, not fucking stupid, because only an idiot would walk away from this a second time.”
Deku, ever the goddamn worry wart, ever the questioner of all things even when they didn’t need questioning, stopped and looked him dead in the eye.
“You know,” Deku said quietly, “Just because you might like… uh, me. It - it doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you. Or that you don’t like girls or -”
“Are you seriously giving me this goddamn talk like you’re my fuckin’ dad right now,” Katsuki snapped, dragging his hands over his face. “You’re un-fucking-believable. I hate you. I hate this. Can you stop being an absolute embarrassment to the both of us and just get naked?”
At the distinct silence, Katsuki dropped his hands with a scowl, only to meet Deku’s bemused curve of lips, his head just cocked.
“Is that how you talk all the girls into bed?”
“No,” Katsuki said, advancing a step, fingertips trailing the freckled flesh beneath Deku’s shirt, his stomach quivering beneath his light touch. Katsuki leaned in, nose brushing Deku’s. “Usually you talk them into bed for me. So, what would you say to you to sleep with me?”
“Um.” Deku leaned up to his toes, lips whispering over Katsuki’s and sending more electricity through his body than any raunchy, beer-drenched makeout session with a chick. His voice warbled just slightly, breathless as one scarred hand gripped Katsuki’s arm for balance. “To sleep with someone like you? I’d say stop talking and do it already.”
“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed, just before he closed in to capture that smartass mouth. “Okay.”
Kissing Deku was like a rush of blood to the head. Like Katsuki’s world had been flipped in the moment their lips met and his veins thundered in overtime, his heart rampant to catch up with the onslaught that was Deku’s tenacious mouth and the quick, assured hands that went straight to Katsuki’s jeans. Some red Solo Cup memory, blurred in amber swill, recalled a Deku equally hurried and single-minded when it came to losing their clothes.
While Katsuki couldn’t help but laugh against Deku’s lips at the realization that Deku was no pillow princess - and of course he wouldn’t be, but he’d honestly never given it much thought until recently - Katsuki admired the drive to get the fuck going.
Katsuki wanted Deku naked and beneath him, laid out in those ugly plaid sheets he had, pink from head to toe with no veil of alcohol to gauze over the scene.
Luckily for both of them, they shared similar minds about more things than most people realized.
“Off,” Deku mumbled, working at Katsuki’s belt, his brow dropped to Katsuki’s shoulder as he looked down between them and yanked at the zip.
“Holy -” Katsuki hissed as a hot hand wrapped around his cock and freed it from the fly, a shock of overwhelmed and sudden pleasure making him jolt and nearly recoil. “That’s - that’s -”
“Oh.” Deku looked up and his eyes were clouded and mossy, lips and cheeks flushed and biteable as he smiled with a somehow out-of-place look of wonder. “You’re more sensitive now. Last time you needed it a little rougher.”
“What.” Katsuki’s entire face was on fire and there wasn’t enough blood in his body to go around between his dick and his blush. “I was drunk!”
Outright grinning now, Deku leaned in, their chests pressed flush, Katsuki’s cock still in hand and pulsing from the easy, more relaxed squeeze and tugs Deku gave.
“Are you admitting you had whiskey dick? I think it had worked pretty well.”
“I didn’t have whiskey dick, jeeeezus-ohfuckFUCK, what’re you-”
Deku looked up from his knees, his mouth bumping against the swollen crown of Katsuki’s cock, eyes blown wide and hungry.
“I’ve wanted to know for so long. You have no idea.”
“I’m sorry?” Katsuki all but yelped, his voice too high, his senses entirely overwhelmed at the fully clothed Deku staring at him like he were a melting ice cream cone or some shit.
“That’s a first,” was all Deku said before he swallowed Katsuki down with a pleased hum, the tears bursting past those dark eyelashes clinging and refusing to fall as Deku kept eye contact with Katsuki and took him deep.
Too much, this was too damn much. Katsuki barely had the strength to hold onto Deku’s mass of hair as he watched that mouth slide over his thick, glistening cock again and again. He’d had his dick sucked dozens of times but this - seeing this specific person, the person who knew him inside and out and took all his bullshit since forever - this was too much, not enough, maddening.
“Off,” Katsuki snapped, and this time it was his turn to yank at Deku, pull him to his feet even as he literally - oh god, Katsuki was going to die tonight - literally whined for Katsuki’s cock as he got to his feet and looked at Katsuki with plaintive, wet eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that, what the - how are you even real, I just - get your clothes off already!”
Apparently Deku took instruction well, because his shirt was on the floor and his tented boxers were glaring at Katsuki with an obnoxiously bright All Might print as Deku shucked his sweatpants aside. Katsuki didn’t even have the brain power to make a snide comment about Deku’s choice in underwear because those strong hands were busy yanking at Katsuki’s shirt in turn.
With his arms caught up in the fabric and the collar inching above his mouth and nose, Katsuki startled when Deku’s mouth found his, hungry and deep and tasting of Katsuki’s own personal musk.
The kiss was a punch in the gut, more for the knowledge that Katsuki was a part of Deku right now, more than they’d ever been. And that Deku had been thinking about this for who knew how long. Katsuki would demand details - later. Much later.
“Hey.” In jeans that barely clung to the curve of his ass and threatened to fall as he moved, Katsuki wrapped an arm around an almost-naked Deku and brought him in, bare chest to chest. Deku’s pulse matched Katsuki’s through the cage of his ribs, overexcited and overexerted as Deku often got over anything that enraptured him.
But this time - this time it was Katsuki he looked at, thought of, wanted. Katsuki had spent a lifetime making sure he walked in front of Deku, led Deku, challenged Deku - all the to be the only one he saw. Now, for the first time in their entwined lifetimes, Katsuki was the only thing Deku saw. The knowledge left Katsuki lightheaded and higher than any green high.
“Look at me,” Katsuki said softly.
“I am.” Deku’s eyes were wide and damp, his voice husky and deeper than Katsuki had ever heard. “I always am, you idiot.”
“Idiot?” Katsuki scowled, enjoying the flash of surprise across Deku’s features in moment Katsuki shoved him to the bed. “How many times you think you gonna get away with callin’ me that today, hah?”
“I -” Deku scrambled to sit up, reclining on his elbows as he scooched back up the bed. “I don’t, I mean -”
“Why’re you nervous now?” Katsuki asked, brows high in question as he crawled onto the bed, hands and knees indenting into the rumpled sheets that smelled purely of Deku. A part of him wanted to suffocate his face into the blankets and die there.
“I’m, uh -” Deku bit on his plumped up bottom lip, dark bedroom eyes meeting Katsuki’s, the hands-down hottest thing he’d ever seen. “Last time you were just more, um, submissive?”
Katsuki blinked, stilled, tried to process, and decided that was another thing to dissect a long time from now.
Instead he smirked, wide and sharp and full of feral teeth as he took Deku’s stubborn chin between his fingers and held tight.
“Don’t get cocky, nerd. You might be my first and only dude, but I’m a fast learner.”
“Oh.” Deku’s breathy gasp was so fucking satisfying in the second before Katsuki attacked and tore at his lips, filling that smart-ass little mouth with his tongue, bit and sucked and ravaged until Deku was gasping and licking into him without rhyme or reason. He didn’t seem to notice that Katsuki had fumbled them out of their underwear, but Deku’s eyes flew open, the small of his back arching high as Katsuki wrapped his hand around that already-dripping cock and began to strip it in slow, firm strokes. “Ohmyg- shit. Shit, Kacchan, that’s - yeah, right th-”
Katsuki kissed him quiet, laughing into Deku’s mouth despite himself, because of course Deku wouldn’t shut up even during this.
“Fuck me,” Deku said against Katsuki’s lips, hands tearing at Katsuki’s hair as he thrust into Katsuki’s fist and fucked up their kiss with his sloppy desperation. “Fuck me, ‘kay, like now, like -”
“Holy fuck do you ever shut up,” Katsuki hissed as he yanked back from Deku to reach past his head and rifle through his bedside drawers. “Gotta have a goddamn dick in your mouth to - ah!”
Deku sucked at Katsuki’s nipple from beneath, teeth grazing, frying Katsuki’s words to ash as he squeezed his hand too tightly around the newfound lube and clenched his jaw to keep from moaning.
“Stop distracting me,” Katsuki gritted out as he quickly righted himself away from Deku’s needy mouth and knelt between Deku’s loosely splayed legs. This angle was also… distracting. Fuck.
“Hmmm?” Deku casually stroked his cock in full, brazen view of Katsuki, who promptly dropped the lube between them and scrambled to pick it up once more. “I consider this speeding up the process.”
“I fucking hate you,” Katsuki snapped as he flagrantly upturned the lube and squeezed it right onto Deku’s dick and watched it drip and glisten down his ass.
“Ah, c-cold!” Deku yelped and kicked Katsuki’s chest with the flat of his foot, laughing all the while, his teeth extra white against the bright red flush of his entire face. “Asshole!”
“You deserved it.”
“And you deserve -” Deku’s words dissolved into some kind of jumble of encouragement as Katsuki slicked up a single finger and dipped into Deku’s relentlessly tight hole. Holy fuck, how had Katsuki managed to open Deku last time? Oh, right, Deku had mercilessly fucked himself on Katsuki's hand first.
The mere memory fizzled and popped along Katsuki’s skin, his cock bobbing between them as it reddened and further grew, an show of just how desperate Katsuki was for Deku. He’d been scared of this, Katsuki realized now. Scared of how violently hungry he’d been for Deku in the moment the offer had emerged. Maybe he’d thought about Deku that way in the past, but the thoughts had been so very fleeting that he’d chalked it up to general horniness and brushed it away as he sought out some girl without strings attached.
Now - now, Katsuki could barely wrap his head around the level of arousal his body and brain bore in this moment, and how savage his desire for this one person was in comparison to the culmination of every other person he’d ever been with.
“I’m not delicate,” Deku snapped, breaking Katsuki’s reverie as he methodically fucked Deku three fingers deep. “And I know what I’m doing more than you. So if you could just -”
“Oh my god, why did I ever think you were hot,” Katsuki snarled, even as he hiked Deku’s ass up to the right angle and edged the slick crown of his cock past that first taut, pink ring of muscle and hissed.
“Ahhhshit.” Deku gripped his own thighs, blunt nails sinking into the thick, supple flesh and muscle as he spread his legs further, the uneven flush of his body shimmering with new sweat in the creamy midday light.
Deku in the day was more mesmerizing than anything in the cover of night. Entranced, Katsuki watched the wide, stretch and suck of Deku’s ass take him in, the way Deku’s thighs trembled, the flicker and twitch of his stomach as Katsuki eased deeper, tortuously slow for both of them.
“That’s enough,” Deku whispered with such repressed violence that Katsuki actually startled, his momentum tripped up in the moment Deku wrapped those iron legs around Katsuki’s waist and started to fuck himself onto Katsuki’s cock with the power of his rolling hips and ass alone.
“Holy shit.” Katsuki gawked, hands clutching at Deku’s flanks, feeling those muscles work beneath his palms, utterly drunk in all new ways and all of them being Deku. “Holy fuck, you’re amazing.”
Deku’s reply was to meet his eyes and release Katsuki’s waist only to ease his ankles upon Katsuki’s shoulders and whisper, fuck me already.
In retrospect, Katsuki would realize that despite whose dick was where, it was absolutely Deku who fucked his brains out twice in a goddamn row. As it was, the delirium hit fast and hard, the sounds of their sex sucking Katsuki in and smacking him across the face, dizzying and devastating in turn as he fought to keep time with Deku’s demands and his undying murmurs of encouragement and dares to do it harder, faster, like this, like that.
Watching Deku cum over himself, red lips wide and raunchy in a yell, hands fisted in the sheets above his furious halo of dark hair, was a revelation. Even as Katsuki toppled forward to cry into Deku’s mouth and let himself spill over and fill, he was thinking of the next time and the next and the next. The twin bursts of terror and anticipation that this desire shot through him were more aphrodisiac than anything he’d ever known.
And he wanted more, for as long as Deku would give it.
“Give me ten minutes and a bathroom break,” Deku croaked, hoarse and dry, his smile imprinted into Katsuki’s shoulder, where he’d collapsed and crushed Deku into the mattress. “And then we’re doing this again. And again.”
“S’nice we found something to agree on.”
“And after today?”
There was something different in Deku’s voice. With a groan, Katsuki shifted his aching body, his thigh slotting between Deku’s, and propped up on his elbows to look down at Deku’s heavy-lidded, sleepy expression. They’d only ever been this close while fighting or twisting each other’s arms into saying uncle - never still enough for Katsuki to notice the gradient of greens in Deku’s eyes.
“And after today?” Katsuki asked, not sure where the hell Deku was going with that.
Deku licked swollen lips and looked away, nervous energy fraying the gentle quiet of their afterglow.
“What happens after today?”
Then it clicked.
Frowning, Katsuki took Deku’s chin again, moving his own face to force Deku into meeting his gaze.
“Deku. Does it look like I’m goin’ anywhere?”
“Well…” Deku searched Katsuki’s expression for a moment before he seemed to like what he saw. He grinned. “We are kind of glued together with jizz. I thought you were maybe sticking around out of convenience or -”
“You’re the least convenient thing that’s ever happened to me.” Katsuki ducked his head, stole a kiss, and almost felt shy about it now that the haze of horniness had momentarily abated. “Deal with the consequences of your actions.”
Deku smiled in that dazzled way he only did with the things he most adored.
“If you insist.”
“Damn right I do. Now kiss me, stupid.”