Pulling Punches

by ill_tickle_you

Summary:

Izuku realized, as Katsuki tried to plug the blood flowing from his nose, that maybe what their coworkers said was true. Maybe they tended to get a little too rough with their sparring.

And maybe as pro heroes they shouldn’t have been sparring to the point of collapse. But if there was one thing for certain, neither of them were able to walk away from a challenge. Izuku couldn't expect himself to, not when the punches felt so thrilling and Bakugou looked so good covered in bruises.

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

 

Bakugou's face settled close, and the pulse of static humid air was the only separation between their lips. Izuku’s chest heaved, mouth parted to catch his breath.

A strand of golden hair skimmed Izuku’s forehead, the only thing crossing the barrier of their gazes. It felt intentional, that Katsuki still hasn’t moved. Knowing his boyfriend, it probably was– he probably loved getting a chance to see Izuku squirm with the intimate press against his limbs as he held him and restrained him and didn’t stop restraining him.

Izuku muffled a barely concealed groan as Katsuki heightened the pressure, fingers rolling as he readjusted his grip on Izuku’s shoulder, crossed over the front of his neck to pin him.

His arm flexed beneath the press of Katsuki’s foot, his heel harsh and unforgiving digging into the meat of his forearm. The muscles of his hand twitched as the electric need to touch Katsuki conflicted with the instinctual reaction to fight him off. The discomfort only multiplied as he was restrained from doing either.

Izuku might’ve been able to admit that habitually being able to touch Katsuki all the time filled him with some sort of entitlement. It was a starkly unpleasant feeling when he was unable to hold onto some piece of his boyfriend. His bicep, his thigh, his hands, Izuku would take anything.

Katsuki’s hot breath encroached close enough that Izuku could feel it brush his nerves, same with the reverberations of the faintest hint of a groan as he recovered from the round. The noise lit a deep seated fuse in his gut, stirring up things that he definitely shouldn’t have been thinking about during training. 

Izuku felt a little bit of shame at the thoughts creeping along his body, but it was quickly overpowered by the desire flooded into his brain as his heartbeat stuttered in time with the waver of Katsuki’s breathing.

Deep crimson eyes stared into him, past Izuku’s face. Izuku could practically see the thoughts racing through them, see the flicker of a familiar want shine behind that gaze. The confirmation of its existence was enough evidence that Bakugou would have it. If their past few years of dating had taught Izuku anything, that was the thing that stuck.

Katsuki’s knee pressed deeper into his thigh, and Izuku’s muscles jolted. The pain briefly ignited through this body, amplifying the heat pooling in his gut. 

Izuku let out a sharp exhale, but continued to stare into Katsuki, who scoffed at the noise. The blond looked like he was about to lean in further, but last-minute he averted his gaze.

“Don’t try to distract me just because you’re losing,” Bakugou grunted, accompanied by a quick cocky grin to compensate for the temporary lapse. The lapse, which had allegedly been a product of Izuku’s infamous and totally real manipulation, despite the fact that Katsuki was the first to actually say something.

“I’m not distracting you,” Izuku said lightly, keeping their eyes locked. He might’ve said something more clever if there wasn’t still a haze lingering around his head. His limbs remained immobile out of fear that Bakugou would retract.

“You’re trying to, I never said it was working,” Katsuki insisted, ever the kind of man to prove his point.

“You’re the one who's still on top of me, Kacchan,” Izuku wanted to linger in the pressure of Katsuki’s weight, but not as much as he wanted to wipe the grin off his face with another round. Izuku knew he was right though; Katsuki had him pinned for at least 30 seconds. If he really wanted to, he would’ve gotten up by now, but it's not like Izuku was complaining. 

Bakugou tsk’d and heaved himself up. Izuku didn’t let himself miss the warmth of his body, and only propped himself up on his elbows and stood from the mat. 

He briefly shook out his limbs and gathered himself into a defensive form. Katsuki wordlessly did the same— hundreds of sparring matches helped them earn a hard fought understanding of silent communication.  

It was a connection not only formed from the intimacy of their romantic relationship, but also from the grueling hours spent by each other’s side, training, saving, fighting. It was from everything that forged their abilities as they stood together in pursuit of their dream. 

But after all these years, all the shared experiences, despite what some might call redundancy, they never grew tired of fighting each other.

They were pretty equal sparring partners to begin with, but especially in quirkless spars like these ones, they found that their skills were even more well-matched. After doing their formative training together and learning to fight side by side, testing the extent of their technical fighting and the bare strengths of their bodies was difficult due to the similarity.

So their spars tended to get a bit… combative. Fueled by the longevity and struggle of a good fight, their infamously shared stubbornness thrived under the opportunity to compete. While the two of them were enthused by the thrilling match up, the other heroes in the agency did not seem to agree. As a matter of fact, a spar between them became an adequate incentive for all other heroes to evacuate the agency gym before they became collateral damage.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t like Izuku could completely disagree.

 

“Oh my gosh!” Izuku floundered, hands hovering over Kirishima as the hero tried to plug the blood steadily dripping from his nose. Izuku’s embarrassment threatened to eat him alive after their unsuspecting coworker had caught a completely unprompted roundhouse for daring to walk across the gym, “I didn’t see you walk by, I’m so sorry!”

“It's fine, it's fine, it was my fault!” Kirishima insisted, as if he was in the wrong for being confident enough to think he could work out within twenty feet of where Izuku and Katsuki were sparring without immediate threat to his life.

 

So from then on they decided to spar later in the afternoon, when no one was there. And reserve the gym for good measure.

Sunlight streaming from the large window of the gym caught Katsuki's brilliant blond hair. Izuku’s attention was drawn to his face, and his suddenly-dawned cold expression. Bakugou had to keep his expression cold whenever they fought, otherwise Izuku would catch all his tells. It worked the other way as well; Izuku made note to intentionally keep his body from leaning in any particular direction as he shifted his posture.

The change was quickly noticed by Katsuki. They stared at each other, waiting for a cue. Then with little acknowledgement aside from a slight nod, they began.

Step for step, they traded movements. Their bare feet swept lightly across the mat, not grounded for long. Their bodies easily fell into a rhythm, a swift punch from Bakugou didn’t go without a swipe of Izuku’s leg. 

Izuku found himself getting lost in the motions, letting his muscle memory take over. He locked his focus onto the specifics, the technical issues in his fighting he knew he had to correct. 

Plant more weight on the left, watch the bend of his leg. He kept an internal tally, and focused hard to apply his corrections. Caught up with his mental notes, Izuku let Katsuki’s face blur from the fight. This was technical, and Bakugou wasn’t Katsuki, he was a training opponent. An opponent that Izuku needed to beat correctly. That was the whole point of sparring. 

But as much as Izuku wanted to focus on the details he needed to fix, his mind whispered otherwise.

Cut to the left, a voice compelled, clinch to catch his kick– you know it's coming.

Izuku tried to ignore it. Right now he was fighting an opponent, not Katsuki. Knowing his boyfriend’s fighting idiosyncrasies wouldn’t help Izuku improve fighting against an actual threat. Technical skill was more important than reading Bakugou’s tells.

Bakugou’s fighting style was practically etched into his brain, of course his movements were somewhat predictable. That didn’t mean he could slack off on a spar just for the sake of winning.

All of Katsuki’s movements were sharp, to the point, and crisply painful if they landed, despite the fact they were just doing technical sparring. He wasn’t one to faint or fight deceptively, too focused on taking down opponents in as few moves as possible. He didn’t waste time.

After the horror that was their early years as heroes in training, Katsuki had learned a cleaner style of fighting, with a focus on reducing how much energy he expended. Harnessing inner anger issues tended to work a lot more efficiently than just throwing blind hits while yelling and hoping he could defeat a villain before draining all his energy through screaming. But Izuku believed that Katsuki adapted well. There was a reason why he became such a well regarded pro, after all.

Izuku ground his teeth as he parried a well-timed punch. The blond maintained the momentum from the blocked jab and fell into the next movement, transitioning seamlessly to a kick from the right. 

Bakugou didn’t exactly make a habit of telegraphing his movements, it was just a matter that Izuku knew what to expect. Izuku had the chance to catch the kick and shift his weight to pin him, but he instead checked it with his arm and pivoted to counter. 

Sure, it might be considered ‘holding back,’ to a certain ill-tempered blond, but Izuku didn’t think so. He was just fighting his stubborn desire to win for the sake of quality training.

It wasn’t personal, it was technical.

Katsuki took the hit to his side and shifted on his heel to brace himself. Before the moment dared to pass, Izuku gripped his shoulder and hooked his foot around Katsuki’s leg, twisting his body and planting his feet. In one smooth movement, he came chest-to-chest with him, barely catching sight of Katsuki’s eyes before twisting his chest and forcing him off-balance.

Katsuki toppled over, left with only a few ways to fight back with his weight used against him. His back hit the mat with a barely audible huff, the only evidence of weakness he’d let pass his guard.

Izuku kept his leg wrapped as he pinned him and twisted his torso, an arm around Bakugou’s neck and the other pinning his arm to Izuku’s chest.

Katsuki struggled in his hold before going lax and sighing. Izuku didn’t have the best view of his face from the angle he held him, but he could imagine Bakugou’s expression.

“Damnit,” He lightly pushed at Izuku’s shoulder to tap out, “I hate when you do that taekwondo shit.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn,” It wasn’t taekwondo, but Izuku decided against correcting him. Izuku released his arm and sat back on his hunches, “I can teach you—“

“No.” Katsuki grunted. Izuku watched as Katsuki recovered and sat up, but the blond made no effort to put distance between them. They sat on the mat and Izuku hesitated to let his muscles relax, knowing they were probably going to go again. 

“Why not? It’d be fun!” Izuku attempted to convince him despite knowing it wouldn’t be much good. A lot had changed about Bakugou in recent years, but fittingly, his stubbornness refused to budge, “I get to kick your ass and you get to wrestle with me. Sounds pretty good in my book.”

“Sounds gay.”

“Exactly, it’ll be great!”

Katsuki huffed but didn’t deny it. Izuku could tell the argument swayed him a little.

“Maybe,” he amended, “But I’ll learn it myself first.” 

“Why can’t I teach you?” Izuku sat back on his knees, feet pressed into the mat. He knew Katsuki was eager to learn skills that would give him a leg up— this had been a conversation happening between them since Izuku recently started learning traditional martial arts from Ojiro. 

But for some reason Katsuki refused. Izuku knew it didn’t have anything to do with his pride; Katsuki didn’t have any issues with learning. Izuku would probably be more offended if he didn’t know that it was simply due to the fact that Katsuki just didn’t like learning technical fighting. He did learn technical fighting, true, but from Izuku’s experience Katsuki found the whole process tedious and would rather approach it himself before bringing in other people. Izuku would go as far as to say that Katsuki was one of the best technical fighters he knew, so the mysterious process must have had some merit. 

“You just want a reason to kick my ass,” Katsuki flicked his forehead and Izuku waved away his hand.

Izuku raised an eyebrow, “But it’s just sparing, it would be the same thing we’re doing right now.”

“Yeah, and I hate technical sparring. This is boring.” Katsuki held an unimpressed expression.  

Izuku fixed him with a reprimanding look and didn’t respond. Sure, he knew this was a little technical, or as Katsuki put it, ‘boring,’ but sue him, Izuku wanted to train correctly! Not every spar had to be an all out passion filled duel to the death. 

To be fair to his boyfriend, there were plenty of times that they went to the gym together and peacefully did their workouts. As a matter of fact, they both greatly reveled in the times they could manage to make it to the gym as a pair. Those calm moments were some of the rare chances they could sneak away and spend time together without the constant weight of hero work hanging over their heads. 

Sure, your definition of ‘domestic,’ tends to shift a bit as a relationship between two pro heroes in contrast to a more orthodox profession, but they cherished any free time they could spend together. Training didn’t make it any less relaxing.

And sure they were competitive, but it was a healthy type of competition. Who could guess the song on the radio, who had the better mile time, who could take the orange peel off in one go. They had a good balance.

But when it came to sparring it was just… different, for some reason.

He wordlessly handed his water bottle to his boyfriend, and tried not to ogle too much as Katsuki drank. A light sheen of sweat highlighted the dip in his collarbone, putting his sharp jaw on clear display as it worked. The way his black tanktop hung just perfectly didn’t exactly help in getting Izuku to stop gawking.

Bakugou lowered the water bottle and wiped stray water from the corner of his mouth. Izuku dodged eye contact as the room suddenly felt a lot hotter.

“Well,” Izuku cleared his throat, “Practice is practice, Kacchan.” 

“But it could be better,” Katsuki suggested. Izuku focused on the whirring of the air conditioner in the corner of the room.

He pursed his lips, “How so?” Izuku had a feeling that he knew exactly what Katsuki wanted to do, but he didn’t want to be the one to say it.

“I’d rather not pull punches.” Katsuki’s eyes stared unwavering at Izuku. He swallowed as the thought sent something straight to his gut.

A deep want stirred in his chest, and one look at Katsuki let Izuku know that he felt it too. Izuku shifted his eyes away from the direct heat of Katsuki’s gaze. 

“You know this technical shit only does so much,” Katsuki insisted, eyes trailing Izuku’s face.

“It’s called technical for a reason, Kacchan,” he explained, hoping that he could also convince himself against the idea, “Technique is important.”

“Yeah, and sometimes you need a real fight,” Katsuki briefly glanced out the window, as if trying to figure out if it was a valid backup escape plan in case Izuku got too annoyed with him, “Technique is only worthwhile if you can use it on the fly.”

Izuku paused, letting the air settle between them slightly. Katsuki quickly caught his gaze again.

“And you know how much I love to fight you,” Katsuki continued, smirking. Izuku squinted. Man, he was really pulling out all the bargaining chips. The worst part was that it was working. Katsuki lightly fiddled with the hem of Izuku’s gym shorts in arm’s reach,  “I’d pay for it, actually. Can I pay you to sock me?”

“No,” Izuku hummed disapprovingly and refused to let Katsuki rile him up. He crossed his arms.

“What if you kick me?” Katsuki joked, “As long as I can see those thighs–”

“Oh shut up,” Izuku blushed and batted his hand away. He could practically sense Katsuki’s pride at seeing his reaction. He could hardly come up with something to say out of the effort he was spending trying to keep himself from agreeing, “You’re such a horrible influence, Kacchan.”

“Scared?” Katsuki goaded, smug grin tugging on his lips. Worse, Izuku swallowed. Excited.

“Kacchan—“ Izuku looked at the door of the gym. It was a reserved gym in the agency, late in the afternoon, but still not the best option. If he knew their tendencies as a couple (which he was fairly confident did) this wasn’t exactly a sight he wanted people walking in on. 

Except in his hesitation, he’d given Katsuki an inch, and the blond was ready to take a mile.

Katsuki leaned forward, all dazzling canines and skin highlighted with sweat. He once again pressed their faces close, but just far enough to be a tease.

“Scared, Deku?” He repeated.

Izuku clamped his mouth shut. Even if he wanted to speak, he wouldn’t dare open his mouth and risk the grazing of their lips. Because he knew as soon as that happened he would be gone. 

Izuku watched desire dance behind Katsuki’s eyes as the blond tried fruitlessly to hide his obvious preference. He wouldn’t want to make Izuku do anything he didn’t want to, but that didn’t mean he was good at looking unbothered. Izuku would be lying if he said he didn't feel the familiar pulse of competitiveness under his skin. 

He and Katsuki often pretended that with age came maturity, but the truth was that they’d never truly managed to lose their respective competitive streaks. Sometimes to their detriment, they had just as much stubbornness as they had eight years ago. 

Izuku wanted to be mature, say no and just go back to training like normal people, but the idea wouldn’t leave the center of his mind. Realistically, he wouldn’t be able to focus after this. Not when he wanted to listen to Katsuki so badly.

Izuku huffed and with a great deal of effort, peeled himself from the eye contact. He hefted himself to his feet and wiped the sweat from beneath his nose before offering a hand to help up his boyfriend.

Bakugou settled on his feet again, and Izuku didn’t have to say a word. 

After an unceremonious silent exchange, Izuku collected himself into a proper fighting stance yet again. 

“Fine. You owe me Katsudon though.”

Katsuki looked like someone told him he’d just won the lottery. He resumed his stance and stared down Izuku with an eager gaze, “Only if you don’t let me win.” 

Izuku grinned, “When have I ever let you win, Kacchan?”

With little more than a shift in posture, the round began.

This time, the energy felt tenser but infinitely better. Felt more right. Even without Katsuki using his quirk, Izuku felt like the air was sizzling and popping around his skin, warm and tempting. As they circled each other, those crimson eyes never once faltered. 

When Izuku’s fist connected for the first time, he wasn't fighting an opponent anymore. He was fighting Katsuki. 

The punch hit his boyfriend in the jaw. Bakugou barely fell back, only side-stepping to create space before sending a mean right hook directly towards Izuku.

He ducked and attempted a hit, only for Katsuki to parry and knee Izuku right in the exposed gut. Pain bloomed from the impact, but Izuku relished the grounding ache, quickly fading as his body moved to keep up with the fight.

They danced and weaved, languid and fluid. If their spars before were choreographed and technical dances, this was a hodgepodged melting pot of movement. Their limbs intertwined, forgoing all technique and instead focusing on strength, quick and hot, striking on reflex.

Katsuki’s fist cracked against his cheek, and Izuku’s head whipped to the side. Sharp pain exploded, and Izuku tried his best not to linger in it. The grounding sting of his exposed cut felt like it blew ice into his veins. 

Izuku felt Katsuki's eyes trace the spot he hit with some objection of restraint, but neither of them moved to stop. They were used to hurting each other after all. 

It was Katsuki, he knew when to stop. He also knew when Izuku would yell at him if he did so.

They traded blows, some landing and some not. Izuku dodged a throw from Katsuki, and quickly whipped his torso to build momentum and nail a kick against Bakugou’s side. 

Katsuki tensed to brace himself, and barely let out an exhale, but Izuku knew it hit hard. He knew it wasn’t too hard, of course. They were focusing on hand-to-hand without their quirks, so it was going to be less powerful without the added strength Izuku usually laced into his kicks with One For All. 

“Seriously?” Bakugou huffed. He parried a punch from Izuku and breathlessly scoffed, “What happened to not pulling punches, Deku?”

“Technically–” Izuku’s words paused as he checked a hit from Katsuki, “It was a kick.” 

He threw the arm checking Katsuki’s punch towards his face. Katsuki caught it with both hands, and Izuku took the chance to drag them down, exposing Katsuki’s face. Izuku pivoted to plant himself perpendicular to Katsuki and whipped his elbow directly into his boyfriend’s nose.

They both fell back, Katsuki to shake off the hit and Izuku to give him some space.

“Smartass,” Bakugou muttered as a grin cracked across his features, the shine in his eyes lit brighter than in any of their previous rounds. Red marks began to develop from where Izuku had hit him so far, the one on his nose blooming faster than the others. A stream of blood started to trickle from his nose past his lips.

Katsuki reached up to his nose, looking satisfied when his fingers came back red. He wiped it away and stalked closer to Izuku, signalling to continue. They circled each other, both taking the chance to catch their breaths. Then, Katsuki pressed closer. 

Izuku punched for his head, but Katsuki caught his wrist with his right hand and pulled it out in front of him, placing himself on the blind side. Izuku barely had the chance to place a palm out guarding his chin before Katsuki threw an uppercut with his left hand.

He slightly softened the blow with his palm as a buffer, but the punch rattled his head. It felt quite like a church bell ringing up close, and managed to disorient him just as well. Izuku’s jaw radiated with pain, and he could feel warm blood begin to pool in his mouth from where he bit his lip. 

Katsuki still had a good grip on his right arm, and before he let himself recover, Izuku twisted his wrist to break the hold. He planted his other arm on Katsuki’s shoulder and pulled the blonde’s chest down to meet Izuku’s knee to his stomach. 

He let out an airy groan as he got the wind knocked from him, backing off on instinct and hitting Izuku in the hip with a push kick to create distance. Izuku didn’t mind, he used the chance to flex and open his jaw, stretching it out to try and get the pain to dissolve. Damnit Katsuki, that hurt!

“I know you can go harder than that, Deku,” Katsuki goaded, fighting to catch his breath.

Izuku wouldn’t let him know how the words lit a fire in his gut. His chest heaved, and he raised his hands back up.

Then it was right back at it. Katsuki struck first, clearly motivated to do closer combat suddenly. He was by no means a bad hand-to-hand fighter, but with his quirk Katsuki usually used his speed and explosions in a medium-distance fighting style. It fit his abilities well, more a barrage than anything else. 

So in quirkless hand-to-hand sparring like this, he tended to echo the style he typically fought with. Because of that, he focused more on distance, and preferred to use sharp attacks with little follow-through. It made sense, and was still effective. 

However in this round of sparring, Katsuki started relying on more fluid and closer martial techniques for some reason. Well, it wasn’t necessarily for no reason. Did whatever they were doing now even count as sparring, if they were just fighting without restraint? Maybe because it was closer to an actual fight, Katsuki defaulted onto close-compact techniques. If anything he was fighting with a style that was closer to Izuku’s. 

Which, with that in mind, made sense. Katsuki knew to adapt and mirror his style depending on the situation for the best chance to defeat a threat. Izuku smiled a bit, he always loved the chance for some on-the-fly analysis, even if it was with someone he’d already written countless pages on.

In some weird twisted way, it was another reason why he loved these fights. It brought out a different type of combat, something more real than just a technical spar. It always created more to think about.

With the closer and more high-risk fighting, Izuku struggled to lose himself in the movements. The onslaught of blows and pain jolted him back and forth, and kept his mind sharp on the goal. The edges blurred, technique becoming fuzzy in favor of winning.

It was also getting harder and harder to restrain One For All as his body edged closer to actual pain. Izuku liked to think that after breaking most of his bones he’d developed a lofty pain tolerance, and this was definitely not the worst he’d experienced. Nonetheless, it took effort to keep his quirk from instinctually activating out of habit to properly defend himself. Izuku grit his teeth and shoved the instinct as far down as possible, because this was different. The pain felt good.

Izuku didn’t think to fix his sloppy footwork or his weight distribution or his improper form. He didn’t want to, because it wasn't an opponent he was fighting. It was Katsuki.

It wasn’t flawless, and he didn’t want it to be. It wasn’t technical, it was personal.

He only hesitated when his foot met Katsuki’s chest with a painfully audible sound. Katsuki fell back with a groan but his feet found purchase as he fought to stay standing.

“Are you–” Izuku started to ask, out of breath yet jolted by the idea he might’ve pushed too far. The words were barely loud enough to reverberate in his chest, but Bakugou looked offended nonetheless.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Katsuki panted, regaining his footing. His gaze was genuine as he told Izuku to continue, caught up in the flurry of emotions coursing through the injuries and the adrenaline. 

And who is Izuku to deny his boyfriend? He flexed his hands and raised them in front of his face. The raw and blistering skin stung but he stretched them out and fell back into position.

As the minutes stretched on, his muscles ached, but the adrenaline coursing through his limbs kept him mobile. Technique slipped farther and farther out of their movements until muscle memory could barely guide the curve of Izuku’s fist, or the twist of Katsuki’s shoulder.  

Fatigue weighed him down, but Izuku threw punch after punch. It became less of a matter of where he hit, and instead a challenge of where didn’t he hit. Katsuki’s face was discolored, blotchy red with marks and streaked with blood still leaking from his nose.

Izuku was sure he looked the same. Sweat stung the cut on his cheek, and every inch of his head throbbed. After dodging a kick from Bakugou, he tilted his head to the side to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.

They both slowed, chests heaving and hands achingly raw, but they refused to stop.

Izuku braced himself as Katsuki’s fist whipped against his face. His neck jerked with the force, but Izuku’s muscles were practically numb at that point. With every hit, the pain served to shock his body back to the present. 

It was addictive– the tremble in his muscles, the blessed lightheadedness. The blur of his vision every time their skin connected. The constant switching between numbness and pain.

He landed another hit, slightly jarred when the blood from his fist lingered on Katsuki’s cheek from the impact.

Through the ache, he processed another successful punch from Katsuki. He fought his arm up and pushed Katsuki’s hand from his shoulder, just barely twisting himself from his grasp. He pushed back, separating him and Bakugou by a few paces.

Izuku panted, swaying on his feet. Sweat beaded and dripped from his hair, running down his face. He blinked hard as sweat forced its way into his eyes, stinging sharply. He pulled his hand up to wipe it from his eyes, fist shaking, trembling terribly with exertion. 

His hand stung when it made contact with the sweat, suddenly reminding him of the blood seeping from cracks in his knuckles.

“P-Pathetic,” Bakugou’s forearms twitched as he held them up, letting a few stray sparks bounce off him. He bared his teeth, lined with red. His breath rattled as his chest rose and fell. A crazed glint in his eye sparkled and danced. His gaze was as sharp as ever, but Izuku could only stare back half-present.

“You better not be giving up, Deku.” Even as he hissed it, the insult didn’t feel like one. It hadn’t in a long time, not for years. The name shifted as their relationship did, and now it wasn’t an insult as much as it was a challenge. And Izuku loved a challenge.

Izuku raised his bloody fists. They shook terribly, but his hold remained steady.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he teased breathlessly, mimicking Katsuki's words from earlier.

Izuku couldn’t quit before he won. Either he was going to win, or he was going to fight until he was unconscious. No other option. 

“You’re tired, Kacchan,” Izuku instigated, huffing through his grin. 

He checked a kick from Katsuki, and threw the blond’s leg back down. Katsuki maintained the momentum and aimed to strike him with a hook from the side. 

“Never,” The corner of Katsuki’s mouth twitched up. His stare remained sharp, practically assaulting Izuku whenever he looked him in the eyes. 

Izuku watched the tremble of his shoulders. The muscles in Katsuki’s beautifully toned arms flexed and untensed, clearly struggling to grapple with the strain on his body. 

Izuku’s elbow directly hit his gut, and he quickly whirled around while Katsuki instinctively bent inward. Izuku took advantage of his moment of weakness, grabbing Katsuki’s arm and pulling it across his body. He held his wrist in his right hand, keeping his elbow straightened out. With his left, he gripped Katsuki’s shoulder from the back, and pressed forward.

With no choice, Katsuki’s body lurched forward, arm pinned against Izuku’s chest. Izuku swept his left foot over Katsuki’s right, and pulled it out from under him. At the same time, he pushed forward until Katsuki’s center of gravity shifted and fell. 

Horrible technique aside, it worked, and sent them both toppling onto the mat. Katsuki managed to twist mid fall to break most of the force on his side instead of his front. Izuku landed on top of him, still restraining his arm. 

For a second, neither of them moved. The impact, even on the soft mat, felt like a car crash. Izuku’s muscles spasmed, adjusting to finally resting after so long on his feet in constant movement. His chest heaved, greedily taking in air. 

He stared at Katsuki, and Katsuki stared back. Izuku maintained his position hovering over his face, not moving to break their eye contact.

Bakugou’s mouth gaped open as he caught his breath, forehead slick with sweat and blood drying in the creases of his face. 

Izuku stared. The red marks had started to take the shape of bruises, blochily coloring Katsuki’s expression. Izuku’s leg remained wrapped around Katsuki’s, with most of his weight resting on his knee. 

Katsuki stared. His eyes watched something imperceivable to Izuku, studying something that he’ll never see. His face was devoid of expression, only leaving the ghost of an emotion Izuku couldn’t name. Izuku didn’t know if it was because he was physically drained from the fight or because he was just out of emotion to show.

A warm drop of blood dripped past Izuku’s lip and fell onto Katsuki’s cheek. 

It caught Izuku off guard, having forgotten he was even bleeding in the first place. He watched mesmerized as the dull red crawled down Katsuki’s perfect skin, now marred with blemishes. The drop of blood delicately carved its way down the side of Katsuki’s cheek, down his chin, past the sharp curve of his jaw and down his neck. 

Katsuki didn’t react, and only stared back as Izuku studied his face. Katsuki’s beautiful face, now covered in Izuku’s marks. The guilt almost outweighed the sting of arousal at the thought.

Before he had a chance to hesitate, Izuku leaned down and pressed his lips to where the droplet first hit. He let his tongue slip by and slide across Katsuki’s cheek, running smoothly down his face. He slowly worked the red off of Katsuki’s skin, the iron spark of his own blood hitting his tastebuds. 

Katsuki’s skin was hot, and his sweat let Izuku’s mouth glide seamlessly over his cheek. The uniquely identifiable taste of Katsuki danced on Izuku’s lips, a sharp sweet tang that jolted his nerves. 

Izuku followed the path carved by his blood, and slid gently down and under Katsuki’s sharp jaw, then over his neck. Katsuki’s pulse thumped temptingly under Izuku’s tongue, just as the blond let out a weak groan. 

Katsuki slipped a hand into Izuku’s wet hair. Thick and calloused fingers gripped Izuku’s curls, guiding his head up from his neck. 

Their eyes connected, crimson onto green. Izuku’s tongue ran along the corner of his own mouth, clearing stray, spit diluted blood.

“Shit,” Katsuki breathed, his wide eyes soaking in Izuku’s face. Maybe he cursed because he knew he was fucked, knew that they couldn’t go back to training after this, no way. However, they’d long since passed that line, and Izuku was dragging him down with him. 

Izuku could feel trepidation twitching in between the jumps of his muscles. Even after he mostly recovered his breath, Izuku’s chest eagerly rose and fell.

He greedily ogled his boyfriend and the marks still decorating his face, blooming into bruises. The crimson in his eyes stood out against his pale skin, matching the blemishes coloring him.

Izuku was sure there were bruises in other places too. He wanted to see them, touch them, he wanted to kiss at sore muscle and pull more of these noises from Katsuki’s mouth.

Katsuki tugged the hair in his grasp to pull Izuku closer. His breath froze as their lips grazed, and Izuku resisted the magnetic force begging him to connect to Katsuki’s mouth.

His mouth remained frozen, barely blessing Katsuki’s lips with a feather light touch. Izuku’s eyes fluttered closed, trapped by an unbreakable pressure in his chest. 

Another bead of blood fell past his mouth, and lazily crawled over Katsuki’s lips. Gravity pulled and slipped it into the open crease of his mouth. Izuku watched as Katsuki’s brow pinched together, and his eyes slipped tightly closed at the intrusion. 

Katsuki let out a breathless gasp, legs twitching beneath Izuku’s hold, and Izuku chose that moment to lean fully in. 

Their lips finally connected, and Izuku immediately lost himself to the sensation. Katsuki’s soft skin felt like a dream, and Izuku hummed under his breath when he caught the taste of his own blood in his mouth.

Katsuki’s hand gripped harder onto Izuku’s hair and the sharp jolt of pain magnified the thrilling static coursing this body. He groaned into Katsuki’s mouth, thrilled when he tugged harder. 

His tongue licked along the inside of Izuku’s lip, probing and intrusive. Katsuki grasped the sides of Izuku’s head with both hands, manhandleing him to allow his tongue to reach impossibly deeper. His tongue worked its way along the soft tissue, teeth grazing the split on his bottom lip.

Izuku’s hand found Katsuki’s waist and clutched hard. He thumbed the bone of his rib,  pleased when the muscle on Katsuki’s side flexed. The pressure growing in his stomach burned, flames licked impossibly hotter the more Katsuki kissed him. 

His knee slid across the mat as he pressed deeper into Katsuki’s body, hips slipping wider. His leg stayed locked around Katsuki’s as he shifted, not letting there be any space between the two of them. Katsuki’s thigh sat in between Izukus’ and flexed as he ground into him. 

He could feel all of Katsuki’s body tense with every movement, muscles twitching with fatigue along with pent up energy and want. Izuku’s body reacted similarly, jolting whenever his need sparked particularly hard.

Izuku’s body needed him, he needed Katsuki’s body. He needed Katsuki. He needed to feel the roll of their bodies and the warm mess of his wet kiss. He needed to feel Katsuki inside of him.

Izuku begrudgingly separated from his boyfriend. He panted heavily from the force of restraint, barely able to stop himself from tumbling deeper into the bottomless pit that was kissing Katsuki. His hips subconsciously ground against Katsuki’s, desperate to relieve the need in his gut.

Katsuki’s head fell back against the mat with a thud as a groan fought itself out of his body. His beautiful pink lips parted to make way for the noise as he panted. Izuku greedily watched his eyes squeeze shut, likely from the pleasure of his clothed length grinding into Izuku’s abs. 

Izuku’s sore thighs ached as he exerted them, but didn’t stop his motions. The dull pain crashed into him, and felt himself twitch in his pants as the sensation broke through the haze of pleasure.   

“Hah– Kacchan,” He hung his head into the crook of Katsuki’s neck, trying to muffle the noises that broke from his chest. The friction from their clothed bodies dragged deliciously against Izuku’s dick, and he gripped harder onto Katsuki’s hip. Pleasure took hold of his motions, and guided the shaky grind of his hips.

“Fuck–” Katsuki breathed, clutching Izuku’s shoulder in a vice grip. The strength in his hold spiked pain through Izuku’s sore muscles. His hips twitched again as the pain shot straight to his dick.

“You can go harder t-than that, Deku,” he held on tighter to Izuku at his reaction. Izuku huffed, but Katsuki gripped harder, “I didn’t think a little pain could take you out.”

“It can’t,” Izuku corrected. He raised his head from Katsuki’s neck, and stared down at his boyfriend. Katsuki’s eyes were dilated with lust, and the bruises marking his face blended with his harsh flush, “Only from you.”

Katsuki surged forward and connected their lips again. Izuku could tell that he needed more. Sure enough, he twisted around, and threw Izuku’s back on the mat. 

He cursed as he placed himself between Izuku’s thighs, and they both groaned at the new position. Izuku gave a full body reaction when Katsuki forced a hand under the waistband of his shorts.

“You- only you could make me desperate enough to do this shit,” Katsuki sharply exhaled. A rough hand wrapped around Izuku’s length, and the direct skin contact after so much tension was enough to make him dizzy. Izuku’s brain sailed right out of his head as Katsuki began to ruthlessly stroke him. The stiff drag without any lubricant was rough, but Izuku felt practically numb to any pain at this point. He was so sensitive and raw that even the thought of it was enough to overwhelm him.

“Ah, Katsuki,” His head fell back against the mat from the delicious pull of steadily building pleasure. Izuku hastily fumbled with Katsuki’s own shorts, struggling to focus on getting his hands to do anything.

The cold air of the gym felt daunting as Katsuki released Izuku to pull himself out of his shorts. He didn’t even get a chance to admire him before Katsuki was seizing them both in one hand and finally continuing to jerk them off.

His dick pressed into Izuku’s harshly, the feeling only blending with the ache of their bodies. Izuku’s legs kicked out uselessly as the pleasure began to build again, exponentially more fulfilling now that he had closer contact with Katsuki.

Izuku watched as pleasure cracked the blond’s scowl. It was something else to see Katsuki like this. Even after having sex countless times, the effect never dulled. It was just as thrilling as the first time, even now as they gave sloppy handjobs like hormonal teenagers.

No one else drove Katsuki to the brink, fought till they bled then blinded him with pleasure. Katsuki was all for Izuku. Izuku was the only one Katsuki stroked as hard as he hit. 

“You love this, don’t you?” Katsuki squeezed the both of them, and his other hand reached up to grip Izuku’s jaw, pressing the bruises on his face. 

He dug his thumb into the mark on his jaw, and Izuku let out a shocked groan. The pain blew white hot into his bloodstream, and the pressure in his gut grew as it blended beautifully with the sweet feeling of Katsuki’s hand around him.

Shit, he was going to come embarrassingly quickly if Katsuki kept doing that.

Katsuki chuckled at his response, “Pain freak.” 

He ducked his face into Izuku’s neck, and mouthed at his feverish skin, likely to disguise his own noises. Izuku groaned as he sucked and nipped teasingly. 

“Katsuki,” He breathed, grinding into his hand. The pressure in his gut began to pile and ebb, steady yet unrelenting, “Do it again.” 

“Hah,” Katsuki grasped his thigh and hitched it onto his hip. His fingers pressed into the sore muscle, and Izuku’s body twitched at the feeling, pleasure hitting him in waves.

“Kacchan, I–” A moan interrupted Izuku’s warning as Katsuki sucked on the pulse point of his neck. He slid his hand into Katsuki’s sweat-soaked hair, and clutched harshly. 

“Fuck–” Katsuki breathed hot air against his skin. On the upwards grind of his hand, he sank his teeth into Izuku’s neck. The sharp sting of his canines in the sensitive meat of his neck ignited nerves he didn’t know existed.

The final push of pain sent Izuku tumbling over the edge. He gripped Katsuki’s hair harder, with his name on his tongue as his climax rolled through him. His body shook from the sensation, wave after wave of pleasure wracking his frame.

It reverberated from deep in his stomach, echoing in every inch of his body. Izuku gasped as it just kept hitting him. All of his injuries ignited, just feeding into the fire consuming him.

Katsuki continued to rock against him, breathing his name as Izuku released into his hand. Izuku’s voice cracked as the aftershocks set in; the delicious remnants of the pleasure continued to rack his body. His release made the slide easier, and Katsuki continued to roughly thrust against him, not slowing the movements of his hand. God, his hands, Izuku felt dizzy with desire. 

“God, s-so,” Katsuki’s breath stuttered, “You look so good like this for me.”

His hand moved harshly and his dick pressed further into Izuku’s sensitive length. His legs twitched with the overstimulation.

Izuku stared back at Katsuki, and slid his hand down his body. He traced his chest and ribs, settling in a spot where he hit Katsuki during their sparring. It was a hard kick, and Izuku knew it would develop into a bruise soon if it hadn’t already.

He wished he could see it, see all the other marks littering Katsuki’s perfect body. The black tank top hid his abs and the bruises sure to decorate his torso.

His probing hand pressed onto the spot, thumbing his ribs. Katsuki’s arm wavered, threatening to buckle as the pain hit him.

“C’mon Kacchan,” Izuku gasped into his ear, “Come, do it, please.”

Katsuki’s motions still jolted Izuku’s body, but he held on until his boyfriend jerked violently. Katsuki let out a deliciously lewd groan, and with a few more deep strokes, pressed harder into Izuku as he came.

It felt like such a sweet reward, to hear the noises Katsuki made as he came down from his high. His cracked whimpers and moans threatened to reignite Izuku’s need. His movements steadily subsided to slow strokes, and he bore most of his weight on Izuku.

They both panted, and basked in the quiet. The air conditioner continued to hum in the corner. Sweat and grime and a little blood still clung to Izuku’s skin, and he was questioning whether or not he’d ever feel clean again. He didn’t care though, not when Katsuki was gasping for breath on top of him.

Katsuki’s head was still buried in his neck, and he tried not to complain too much when his warmth left him. He tucked them both back in and rolled off of Izuku onto his back with a grunt.They both stared at the ceiling, catching their breath.

Every time he thought of moving, Izuku’s muscles ached in complaint, white pain sparking in places he didn’t even know he was hurt.

He looked to Katsuki, whose eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

“You’re a freak,” Katsuki grunted, but Izuku caught the upward tug of his lips.

“Hm,” Izuku hummed, letting his body relax next to his boyfriend, “You liked it though.”

Katsuki huffed a laugh but didn't deny it, letting them settle to a contented silence. Pain pricked at the edges of Izuku’s mind as the haze from the orgasm lifted, and his injuries finally settled. Dull aching took over his body and numbed his senses.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Katsuki warned, but made no effort to get up himself.

“I won’t.” The thought of getting up felt impossible with the fatigue weighing down his limbs. He briefly closed his eyes and heard Katsuki grumble next to him.

“You’re lucky I didn't blow your face off with all this sweat,” Katsuki ran a hand down his neck, clearing sweat and grime.

“We need to take the longest shower ever.”

“Because you’re gross and got blood everywhere,” Katsuki grunted.

“Hey!” Izuku poked him with his foot, “I’m not gross.”

“Are too,” Katsuki insisted.

“Well it’s not like you told me to stop,” Izuku challenged, and took it as a win when Bakugou didn’t refute it.

They fell into a contended silence, and after a few moments, Izuku hefted himself into a sitting position. His joints and muscles protested, and he rolled out a stubborn ache in his shoulder.

He went to stand up, but stopped when a hand gripped his wrist. 

“Kacchan, let me get up,” If Izuku didn’t get off of the floor he was going to be at legitimate risk of falling asleep.

“Two more seconds.” Katsuki’s eyes traced Izuku’s face. 

“C’mon, we have to clean up. We can be lazy later.” The unfortunate mess on his front and Katsuki’s hand was enough motivation to get up, regardless of the first aid nightmares that were their faces.

Katsuki frowned and used his thumb to wipe a smudge of blood from Izuku’s face, “Sue a man for wanting to look at his boyfriend for more than two seconds.”

Izuku flushed and looked away. Katsuki somehow had the greatest knack for embarrassing him.

“You can look at me later. When we go to bed.”

“When we go to bed?” Katsuki repeated with a raised eyebrow, “And then what?”

“You know what,” Izuku ducked to plant a kiss on Katsuki's warm cheek, and heaved himself up before he gave them the chance of getting carried away again.

He stretched out his knee as he stood, shaking out the aches in his limbs. He offered a hand to Katsuki, who grabbed it and pulled himself up.

“They’re going to need to bleach this mat.”

Izuku looked down at the sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids on the mat and had to agree with Katsuki.

He winced at the reminder that they were at their workplace. Thankfully, their insistence on sparing their coworkers from their sparring meant that it was late in the afternoon and they still had the gym reserved for the next hour. 

However, that didn’t mean divine intervention would let them sneak out without anyone catching their beaten faces. Izuku only hoped for his own dignity that there weren’t many people wandering the halls of the agency this time of day after work. They could treat their injuries at home but there's only so much that his pride could take.

They gathered their things– after thoroughly cleaning– and Izuku experimentally sent Katsuki out into the hallway first to see if there was anyone lingering. Katsuki grouchily told him off for worrying so much but soon gave him the all clear.

As they snuck out, Izuku laughed pretty much the entire way as Katsuki treated the whole situation like he was the second coming of James Bond. He snickered at Katsuki’s determined expression as they snuck around a corner and he ordered commands into an imaginary radio, despite being so insistent that he didn’t care. 

Izuku’s heart fluttered, and now that it was over, he wasn’t sure which he liked more: the fight or what came after.

 

 

 

Izuku turned the handle, and warm water streamed from the shower. He undressed, wincing when he would accidentally tug a muscle or graze a bruise.

He eased himself into the shower, sighing as the hot water hit his skin. It felt amazing against his sore muscles, and Izuku rolled his shoulders, relishing in the feeling. The water ran the sweat and grime down his body, and he passively watched the dark water circle down the drain. 

As he wet his hair, the bathroom door clicked open. Beyond the curtain, Katsuki’s shadow shifted around. Izuku was still lingering in the warmth when he stepped in behind him.

“Are you showering or taking a nap?” Katsuki smoothly looped his hands around Izuku’s bare waist and held his torso. His face pressed into his shoulder, and Izuku let his head fall back against Katsuki’s, closing his eyes. He melted into the touch, probably proving Katsuki correct.

“Neither, but I’d rather take a nap.”

Katsuki hummed in response, and wordlessly took the soap. He lathered Izuku’s back and rubbed, thumbs digging into the tight muscle and massaging out the knots. Izuku sighed at the feeling, and let his boyfriend dote on him. Katsuki washed the blood from the cut on his cheek, and scrubbed at the dried sweat on his chest.

Marks on both of their torsos had developed darker since they sparred, and were more visible under the fluorescence of the bathroom light. They weren't pretty, objectively, and Izuku knew from experience they would only get uglier as they healed. But now, as they were in the early stage of developing, some of the marks almost looked like hickeys, small patches of red decorating their skin. It was almost as if the bruises were some form of love bites, instead of evidence of their fighting.

Katsuki rubbed shampoo into his scalp, and Izuku leaned into the touch. The fuzz of the foggy air in the shower dipped him further into the tired haze. Suds washed down his back as Katsuki carefully dragged his hands through his hair.

The movements were welcomed after the harshness of the spar, if they could even call it that. Izuku relished in the touch, and let Katsuki guide him through a shower until they stepped out of the foggy bathroom.

“Next time you say we spar like that, I’m ignoring you,” Izuku collapsed onto the bed, happily changed into clean clothes. 

“That’s what you said last time.” His boyfriend had on a pair of sweatpants, leaving his torso exposed as he walked back into the bathroom. Izuku heard him rummage through the medicine cabinet. 

“This time I’m serious,” Izuku rolled onto his side, and soaked in the sight of Katsuki bent over to reach the first aid kit. 

“Sure,” Katsuki agreed disbelievingly. He walked back over and gestured for him to sit up, cracking open the kit, “Here, don’t pass out before you clean up your injuries, stupid.”

“Mm,” Izuku sat up as Katsuki ripped open an anti-septic wipe. He let Katsuki clean and dress the cut on his cheek, “Kacchan’s so sweet.”

Katsuki grunted in response, but Izuku noticed his blush alongside the bruises. His brow creased in concentration, and Izuku’s skin warmed with every touch of his hands. 

“And cute too,” Izuku smirked. Katsuki ignored him, continuing to work in silence.

“Like my personal nurse–” Izuku added, just to piss him off.

“You can shut up now,” Katsuki threw an ice-pack at his face. 

“Thanks,” Izuku held it to his jaw, “Don’t you need one?”

“There’s another in the freezer, I’ll grab it later. I don’t need it now.”

Izuku didn’t try to conceal his doubt. Bruises dotted Katsuki’s face, but the one on his nose particularly stood out. The bleeding had stopped not long after their fight, but it still looked red and swollen, especially noticeable after their shower cleared the other muck from his face.

“You sure?” 

Katsuki gave him a ‘drop it’ look. Instead of responding, he fell onto Izuku, smushing him into the mattress.

“Ow,” Izuku fought to free his arm from under Katsuki’s chest, “You’re heavy, Kacchan.”

Katsuki buried his head into Izuku’s neck, doing the exact opposite. Izuku slipped his hand into Katsuki’s damp blonde hair, scratching dully at his scalp. Katsuki melted further into his body, and Izuku didn’t bother to tell him to scooch off.

“You’re just weak. Maybe you need another sparring session.” His voice vibrated in the crook of Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku shivered at the brush of hot air against his skin.

“Not anytime soon,” he muttered, “Unless it's normal sparring. Y’know, sparring like normal people.”

“What, and I’m supposed to just not beat the shit out of you?” Katsuki asked skeptically. Izuku rolled his eyes, even if Kacchan wouldn’t see it.

“Or, I could teach you the ‘taekwondo shit’,” he quoted, “And I could beat the shit out of you.”

“So you do just want an excuse to beat me up,” Katsuki concluded, simultaneous vindicated and offended. He reached up and lightly smacked Izuku’s hand when he stopped scratching. Izuku caught the hint and continued the motions, “And you already did, greedy bastard. My nose looks like I got roundhouse kicked.”

For the sake of peace, Izuku decided not to get offended by the reference to the Kirishima incident.

“So you admit that I beat you?”

“No way. It was a tactical surrender.”

Izuku rolled his eyes again and let the silence sit between them. He kept his fingers threaded into Katsuki’s hair, scratching at his scalp. A shiver creeped up his spine when Katsuki’s hot breaths turned to light kisses, gently grazing his neck.

Izuku sighed at the feeling as Katsuki’s mouth gradually worked kisses onto his neck. He tilted his head to the side, giving his boyfriend more room to work with. The blonde happily took it, working up to the edge of his jaw, directly over his pulse point.

The slow and gentle movements easily worked up the thrum of need in his body. Izuku shivered again at the sensual brush and pull of Katsuki’s lips.

“I can’t get enough of you, Izuku,” Katsuki muffled against his neck. Izuku blushed, the gentle hold on Bakugou’s hair tightening.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Katsuki continued after Izuku stayed silent, “Can’t even train normally with you in front of me.”

Air forced its way from Izuku’s lungs as Katsuki sucked the skin particularly hard. 

“How did I get so lucky?" Kacchan mused, raising his head to lock eyes with Izuku.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathed, quickly overwhelmed by the tension wounding around his chest and squeezing him tight.

Izuku pressed their lips together, sighing as the heat between them easily revitalized. Katsuki cupped his jaw, and his calloused fingers explored over his face. They tentatively brushed over the bruises and gently fingered the swollen areas. 

Katsuki’s thumb swiped the edge of his bandaged cut, and Izuku couldn’t help the noise that escaped him. He sighed into Katsuki’s mouth, lips barely moving, only touching for a taste of intimacy. Katsuki’s hand kept working, down Izuku’s neck, down his chest.

His hand gripped Izuku’s thigh, and he inhaled at the firm pressure of Katsuki’s fingers. Katsuki’s hand rubbed into the meat of his thigh, sore from the countless kicks and the large amount of strain from the sparring.

His hand gripped harder, unmoving when Izuku let out a groan. He alternated between soothing firm massaging and harshly digging his fingers in.

“Does that hurt?”

“Yes,” Izuku let out in a barely audible whisper. He held onto Katsuki’s shoulder as the man continued to tease. He rubbed his hand down Izuku’s thigh, stopping occasionally to harshly grip the muscle. 

“I said, does it hurt, Deku?”

“Yes,” the word slipped from his mouth. Katsuki’s fingers hurt, but they hurt so good. The sharp pain in his sore thigh perfectly cut through the haze in his head, sending shocks straight to his dick, “Yes it hurts.”

“Then I guess I should stop,” Katsuki’s hand slipped away from his skin, leaving Izuku  achingly cold without the warmth of his palm. Izuku barely processed himself chasing after his hand, limbs twitching at the loss. 

He knew what he was doing, he just wanted Izuku to beg him for it. Beg Katsuki to hurt him more, touch him harder. And damnit, it worked. God Katsuki, he knew how to work him up.

“No...” He squirmed, eyes shut. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Katsuki, tantalizingly close.

“No what?” He could hear the smirk lining Katsuki’s words, “What do you want me to do, Deku?”

“Please,” Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s wrist and dragged it to his body, forcing him to hold Izuku’s thigh again. His dick twitched in his pants, quickly filling out from the trepidation coursing through him, “Touch me, anything, please Kacchan.”

Katsuki’s hand flexed, and he let out a controlled breath. Katsuki moved his hand, and wandered to the crease of his pelvis and thigh. He dug into the sensitive flesh. Izuku gave a full-body flinch, and Katsuki huffed.

“If you’re that desperate, maybe you can do it yourself.

Izuku knew he was bluffing— there’s no way in hell Katsuki would pass up the chance to take Izuku apart on his fingertips.

“If I have to,” Izuku tested, tired of the teasing, but the words froze in his throat when suddenly Katsuki’s hand dragged to his dick. Even just the slight contact made his gut swoop. As if reflexively, Katsuki palmed him and stared unrelentingly at Izuku.

“Hm, that sounds like a pretty sight,” He tightened the hold, squeezing Izuku, “I wonder how long you’d last tonight before you beg me to do it for you.” Izuku gasped at the pressure, and Katsuki laughed.

“Tell me Deku, can you do it like I can?”

The truth was, Izuku couldn’t. Nothing felt better than Katsuki’s thick, calloused fingers, always knowing the exact buttons to press to make Izuku squirm. His core throbbed as the reminder of what he was lacking. He needed Katsuki now.

“Nothing feels better than Kacchan,” he whispered. Katsuki’s eyes sparked, and Izuku happily accepted him as he pulled Izuku into a rough kiss.

Katsuki tugged at Izuku’s clothes with enough fervency to show that he was getting restless, and Izuku didn’t argue. He stripped his shirt off, and the skin-to-skin contact was enough to make his head rush.

Their torsos pressed and slid together like silk. Katsuki mouthed down his neck and sucked at his collar bone, gentle yet fervent. He silently planted kisses to his skin, down his chest. Lips still nipping at his sternum, Katsuki tugged down Izuku’s pants and boxers. 

Izuku let him do what he wanted, let Katsuki touch him like it’d be the last time. He relished in the slow drag of his fingers across his skin, he savored the want intricately laced into each of his movements.

Katsuki’s lips trailed and dipped into the cease of his bare pelvis. His hot breath grazed Izuku’s hardening arousal, and he groaned, so raw from the tease of heightening the pleasure.

Then, the roof of Katsuki’s mouth scraped against his tip, and an embarrassing noise escaped from Izuku’s chest.

“God, Kacchan,” he groaned when Katsuki pulled off. The blonde huffed, and took Izuku back into his mouth. His tongue made lewd sounds around Izuku’s length, so wet and hot and shit–

“Ah-” Izuku’s breath failed him as the wet heat of Katsuki’s mouth pulled him in farther, moving up and down sensually, sucking just right. His core flinched, and the direct pleasure to his cock after so much tension and indirect contact was embarrassingly overwhelming.

After so long, Katsuki was finally touching him in the best ways, drawing the best noises from him. Izuku scrambled against the sheets, so overwhelmed by the sharp pleasure. 

Katsuki’s hands kept moving, grabbing at his thighs, at his sides, the curve of his ass, anywhere he could. The fleeting touches pulled at his nerves, and was proving too much. Small noises reverberated from his chest, intersecting the lewd noises coming from Katsuki’s mouth.

Izuku dared to look down, and felt light-headed at the sight of his boyfriend going down on him. Katsuki’s jaw stretched around his length, muscles working to suck and pull. Kacchan’s eyes fluttered shut, brow creased. The drag of his tongue on the underside of Izuku’s dick was enough to pull another groan from the depth of his gut. The movements were deep and intentional, and suggested to Izuku that his boyfriend was enjoying it just as much as he was.

Want ached through him too hard, and Izuku found that he needed more, he needed Katsuki closer. Sitting up, Izuku pried Katsuki from his dick and pulled him to his face. They met in a messy kiss, and Izuku pushed him down into his back.

Izuku straddled his waist, and ground against his clothed pelvis. Katsuki’s hands warmed the small of his back, and moved to grip his ass. He stroked across the skin and dug his fingers in, making Izuku suddenly feel a lot weaker. Nothing felt as home as the press of their lips, the curve of his hands, and Izuku found he would choose this over head any day.

It took a painful amount of willpower to break from the kiss so he could lean over to the nightstand. Katsuki made a small noise of complaint but held firmly onto Izuku’s hips so he wouldn’t topple over. The secure grip of his hands on his hips made Izuku search for the lube with a little more fervor. Izuku rummaged through the nightstand drawer, and grasped onto the bottle. He reconnected with Katsuki and wordlessly handed it to him. Katsuki’s thumb rubbed reassuring circles as he clicked open the bottle. 

Izuku smirked into his shoulder. He knew Kacchan couldn’t help but do it himself.

He wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s neck, and leant his cheek against his shoulder. Katsuki kneaded his ass, gingerly circling and getting closer and closer to his hole. He teased, not fully pushing in. 

“Quit teasing–” Izuku held hard onto his shoulders, and his fingers dug into skin as a finger quickly entered him. Katsuki carefully pressed into him, slowly letting his finger drag.

Izuku clutched him harder, and stilled himself. Katsuki huffed, and Izuku could practically feel his smugness.  

“What was that? Didn’t hear you,” he teased. Izuku just held on, not trusting himself to respond as the emptiness in his gut finally started to fill. Katsuki allowed a moment for Izuku to get adjusted, but after a few seconds Izuku quickly became restless.

“Go faster, Kacchan,” he urged. There wasn’t anything inherently groundbreaking about having fingers up your ass, but the thought of what came after was infinitely more arousing, and made Izuku that much more desperate.

“Jesus, Deku, chill,” Katsuki smirked, but his fingers moved a touch faster, “Impatient much?”

“Maybe,” Izuku hummed, he melted even more onto Katsuki as he added another finger. He fisted the pillow by Katsuki’s head.

“Well you’re gonna have to wait,” Katsuki’s fingers brushed a spot inside of him, and Izuku jerked against his body. 

“Ah– right there,” he groaned, voice, wavering against his will. Katsuki’s fingers curved deliciously inside him, pleasure multiplying with each drag in and out. The force of Katsuki’s thrusts jolted the fragile restraint in his core, steadily chipping away at his patience. 

His skin felt like static, fuzzy and uneven. He could barely focus on anything other than the fact that Katsuki was inside him, even just his fingers. The fact amplified the sensations coursing through his gut. He let out small noises, too distracted trying to curb his desire to stop them. Katsuki’s hand maintained a strict pace, his other holding onto Izuku’s hip supportively. 

Katsuki added more lube and slowly slipped in a third finger. Izuku let out a breath, more focused on relaxing than the pleasure. Katsuki gave him time to adjust before Izuku’s hand gripped his shoulder, taking it as a cue to continue his harsh movements.  

He steadily worked Izuku open, each drag against his skin shifting the waves of pleasure slowly beginning to ebb. He sighed into Katsuki’s shoulder, letting himself relax into the rhythm. Sitting here chest to chest with him completed something Izuku didn’t know he needed. Rather, didn’t know he was lacking until it hit him in the face.

“Kacchan,” Desire built in his chest, and Izuku reached behind him to grab Katsuki’s wrist and push it away, “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Katsuki stayed still beneath him, maybe feigning indifference, but Izuku saw the flash of need in his eyes.

“Yes, now hurry up,” Izuku rushed, tugging at Katsuki’s remaining clothes that had the audacity to still be on him. His boyfriend held no objections and lifted his hips to help Izuku pull his sweatpants off.

“Don’t have to be in a rush,” Katsuki mused with an infuriatingly calm tone that only made Izuku more impatient, “I have plenty of time to love you.”

“Sap,” If possible, Izuku felt his face blush further. Partially from the sweet comment and partially because he suddenly came face-to-dick with Katsuki’s flushed cock. It was pretty, leaking pre, and Izuku had to fight himself from taking it into his mouth.

As if reading his mind, Katsuki pulled Izuku’s face up and into a sloppy kiss. All thoughts tempted to drift from Izuku’s mind as they connected again, and he eagerly pulled himself back to the task at hand.

Still straddling Katsuki’s thighs, they continued to make out while Izuku fumbled to grab the lube. He parted from the kiss to apply a generous amount onto Katsuki’s dick. A faint hum broke through the air between them as Izuku pulled his hand up and down Katsuki’s thick cock. Izuku watched the way the angry red tip disappeared into his fist before bobbing back up, steadily getting firmer and leaking pre.

He gave a hearty squeeze, relishing in the soft moans streaming from Katsuki’s lips. A grin worked its way onto his face; maybe Katsuki was right, he could afford to take his time.

However, the carnal need for intimacy won over the desire to continue to toy with Katsuki. Izuku reluctantly withdrew his hand. They’d have to save that for another time.

Izuku readjusted himself over Katsuki, who kept his hands supportively resting on his waist, rubbing absentmindedly down his sides and occasionally down his ass. Izuku lifted himself on his knees with the help of Katsuki’s support and held his dick to his entrance.

He made eye contact with Katsuki before fully dropping down, looking for vague approval. Katsuki stared back at him through drooped eyelids, mouth pressed together with trepidation, and eagerly nodded. 

Izuku let out a staggered breath as Katsuki finally penetrated him. He felt himself stretch around the tip as he gently lowered himself. Katsuki gripped harder onto Izuku’s hips as the head fully popped in, and Izuku found himself drawn to the slight crease of his brow.

After a short moment, Izuku let gravity pull him down farther and let Katsuki’s presence inside of him steadily break down the walls of his restraint. His gut swooped as Katsuki speared him further, and his breath was suddenly stolen from his lungs. 

Raw pleasure tempted to form with every additional inch, and holy shit did it feel good, and he wasn’t even down all the way yet. Izuku needed this, needed Katsuki. He needed to see Bakugou’s fractured expression as he restrained himself.

Katsuki’s head fell against the headboard with a thump as Izuku finally dropped down all the way. The blond’s mouth parted to release a desperate breath, and his hands clutched harder onto Izuku’s hips. Izuku groaned, feeling his abs and stomach flex around the intrusion. The feeling was quick to take hold of him, all that could echo in his mind was that he was finally full.

He and Katsuki let out desperate sounds as they subtly ground impossibly closer. Katsuki’s cock pressed deep inside of him, but fit so perfectly. Izuku braced himself on the headboard, quickly overcome as Katsuki held his hips down and pressed his length into him from below. He groaned, feeling the movement prompt such a raw reaction from his body only made him insatiably hungry for more.

Izuku’s thighs faltered beneath him as he raised himself up on Katsuki’s dick, muscles jolting with sparks of pleasure erupting from the drag out. Katsuki’s vice grip on his hips contrasted with the slow movements he guided them through. Izuku dropped down again, this time prompting a faster rhythm, something Katsuki voiced no objections to.

Inhale, exhale. Izuku forced himself to breathe steadily as he slowly fucked himself onto Katsuki’s cock. It took all the restraint in his soul to stop himself from just going all in, but the tortured groans streaming from his boyfriend’s mouth was enough to remind Izuku why it was so much better to go slow.

Katsuki seemed to disagree, if his tightly shut eyes and creased brow said anything about his preference. Izuku went a little faster but kept the movement slow and intense. His hips closed more as he leant more of his weight on his legs and shifted his hands to grasp onto the junction between Katsuki’s shoulders and neck.

“Izuku…” Katsuki trailed, squeezing tighter onto his waist with broad hands. Izuku could feel the heat threatening to erupt in his palms, and relished the gentle burn. He used his leverage to fuck up into Izuku, but unfortunately for him he didn’t hold full control, “Faster.”

Izuku’s gut burned as all the sensations mixed together, pleasure and the soreness of his muscles.

“Now you wanna go faster,” he muttered, distinctly remembering the conversation they had not even ten minutes prior.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Katsuki threatened heatlessly, and Izuku conceded, partially for Katsuki and partially because his own gut was burning with the desire for more. His thighs moved faster, blending with Katsuki’s upward thrusts and mixing into a wonderful chorus of slapping skin. 

Katsuki’s hands wandered up Izuku’s chest, spreading the warmth from his palms and not helping the harsh burn of the blush that already adorned Izuku’s skin. His calloused hands rubbed smoothly along Izuku’s shoulders and down his biceps, fingers laced with veneration, lingering across his muscles as if each touch was one step closer to committing the experience to memory forever.

The sail of Katsuki’s hands across his body spread adoration through Izuku’s chest, as he found his heart swelling with every bit of worship dripping from Katsuki's movements. Maybe because he liked knowing that Katsuki enjoyed it too, that he enjoyed Izuku as much as Izuku cherished him.  

“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed, his eyes slipped open and his gaze roamed Izuku’s body. After a moment their gazes connected, and Izuku kept their eyes locked together. Pleasure had begun to show itself on Katsuki’s face, contorting his brow and forcing his jaw to clench. His pretty lips were pressed taught together, looking so easy to kiss.

Izuku ducked down to connect them in a sloppy kiss, just desperate to be closer to him. His tongue slid across the soft skin of Katsuki’s mouth, jostled by their fucking but steadily demanded more and more of their attention. Izuku moaned into his mouth, and the shared sound reverberated between their lips.

Katsuki also seemed to be absorbed in the new contact, and tilted Izuku’s head to get a better angle. Izuku let himself get manhandled, and hardly had time to process before Katsuki flipped them over and threw him onto his back. 

With his head now resting on the pillow, Izuku felt right at home as Katsuki settled between his legs and pressed himself inside again. The new angle and force shook Izuku’s core as Katsuki fucked into him faster. He tilted his head back and let free a lewd moan, quickly caught by Katsuki capturing his lips again.

That was the real reason Izuku was on his back. Katsuki just wanted a better way of forcing his tongue down his throat. Not that Izuku was complaining. As a matter of fact, he reached up to grasp onto Katsuki’s hair and pulled him closer. 

Izuku squirmed as Katsuki fucked his cock deeper, pausing occasionally to press into him harshly and grind right up against him. With this angle his thrusts jolted right up against his prostate, feeling hot and wet and fuck it was perfect. 

One thrust in particular hit him so hard that it drew an especially lewd noise from his throat. Katsuki, upon hearing his reaction, slammed into him with a newfound fever until the bed shook and rattled against the wall.

“There, right there Kacchan,” he moaned and bucked up with impatience, met by the wide eyes of his boyfriend. Katsuki maintained the strict pace, eyes locked onto Izuku. His eyes roamed his expression, and soaked in every part of him. The gaze burned Izuku’s skin but blended perfectly with the pounding in his ass.

“Ah- Izuku,” Katsuki hummed, posture wavering. The sound of wet skin accompanied by the breathless curses chorusing through the room was enough to make Izuku throb more around him. Katsuki paused to circle his hips and grind deeper into him, “You feel so damn good.”

“Katsuki,” Izuku whined, all dignity lost for the sake of getting fucked as hard as possible. The harsh thrusts burned, but melted with the pleasure to form something different, something he needed. It was all becoming too overwhelming. His nails raked along Katsuki’s back, drawing a shaky breath from the blond. Izuku continued to draw his nail across his skin, pleasure heightened with each noise caught from Katsuki’s throat. 

Bakugou grabbed him by the waist and twisted him, throwing Izuku onto his stomach. With his face pressed against the pillow, all Izuku could process was the absolute thrill coursing through him once Katsuki pushed in from the back. 

Izuku leaned up to brace himself on his forearms, back arched and on his knees. His limbs shook with exertion from the position, the pain exacerbated by the abuse on his body from before. It burned, but fuck if it didn’t feel good.

“Fuck, take it,” Katsuki’s hands clutched onto his hips, pulling him into every harsh thrust. His quirk crackled occasionally, spreading the heat of his palms into Izuku's flushed skin. Izuku heard him waver, as his groans became steadily louder. He sounded beautiful, and Izuku decided it was the best thing he’d ever heard, “Take it, Izuku,”

“Make me take it,” Izuku moaned, “Katsuki–”

Izuku heard a strangled curse from behind him as Katsuki continued, unrelenting. His hands held firm onto Izuku’s waist as he fucked into him, fingers gripping onto his skin. The small bursts of pain felt welcomed, and Izuku groaned at the feeling.

Katsuki must’ve been able to tell what he needed, and started moving his hands again. They slipped to the sides of Izuku’s hips, grasping and digging deep into the muscle where he knew it would hurt. The soreness ignited the strain of his other muscles, and Izuku found himself begging for more.

“Katsuki, again, please,” He begged shamelessly, “Hurt– ah, hurt me, I need it,”

Izuku felt the heat from Katsuki’s hand leave his thigh, but his body jolted as the hand instead grasped onto his hair. Shit, Katsuki knew that Izuku was weak for those strong hands and loved to take full advantage of it. Caloused fingers threaded through his tousled locks and gripped firmly, maintaining a harsh pressure at the roots. Katsuki used his hair to pull his head up, and Izuku’s face was exposed for his boyfriend to see. The pain ignited in his gut and fuck Izuku wasn’t going to last. 

The pleasure coursing through his body was enough to bring him closer to the edge, but the voice coming from behind him just added kindle to the flame.

“God, you look s-so good covered in bruises, my bruises,” Katsuki rambled, and Izuku felt his hand hover over a painful mark on his rib. His warm skin tingled as it made contact with the bruise, and the brief tease of pain caused Izuku’s eyes to squeeze shut. He pulsed around Katsuki’s dick, fucking himself back into him.

“Fuck, harder Katsuki,” He begged, need aching in his bones, “Don’t stop.” 

Katsuki showed no signs of wanting to. He diligently went harder, pulling more firmly on Izuku’s hair. The roughness of their fucking was perfect, and exactly what Izuku needed. The pain from his scalp traveled down his neck, running like fire through his limbs.

“Who else can do this to you, Deku?” Just Katsuki. There was no one who came close. Izuku’s heart swelled, the emotions becoming too overwhelming. His adoration for Katsuki felt raw and alive, taking over everything else.

“Just Kacchan,” He forced out, voice shaking with exertion. The blend of arousal and pain and pleasure brought tears to his eyes. Izuku didn’t bother to brush them away, letting them drop down his cheeks and trail down his throat. “Only– ah, Kacchan.”

“Damn straight,” Katsuki agreed. His thrust stuttered, hitting deeper and longer as they both were dragged closer to the edge, “Say it again.”

“Katsuki,” Izuku moaned dutifully, echoing in the room with the sound of slapping skin and the creaking bed, just as Katsuki told him to. He’d do anything for Kacchan, just to have him like this. Everything before this was just a temporary appeasement, incomparable to finally feeling whole. Nothing else was like this, nothing else was like Katsuki, “Just Kacchan.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki’s hand let go of his hair, and Izuku mourned the touch. His head fell without the support, bangs skimming the mattress and neck bowing forward, almost as if in prayer. His back caved as his forearms supported him, biceps spasming.

Katsuki clutched onto him harder, gentle sparks popping free. With his now free hand, Katsuki reached around and wrapped a fist around his neglected cock. Izuku’s arms wavered beneath him with the added pleasure, quickly overwhelmed. Scarred hands encompassed him, just like earlier, squeezing perfectly and moving in time with his thrusts. Izuku's head bowed further, pleasure taking full control of him.

“Kacchan,” He barely managed to get out, “I’m close, please,”

He didn’t even know exactly what he was begging for, but Katsuki seemed to understand pretty well. His boyfriend thrusted deeper, hand speeding up. Izuku caved as he was bombarded with pleasure from all sides, mouth hanging freely as all control abandoned him.

Izuku’s gut ached, so close to release. He barely managed to last a few more seconds before the pleasure built and he tensed around Katsuki. Fire consumed his dick and knit together with the pain radiating from all over his body. Everything began to numb as he was blindsided by the steadily built pleasure quickly overcoming him.

His hands grasped onto the sheets, knuckles going white as ecstasy flooded his nerves. Izuku didn’t process the sounds that left him as he came into Katsuki’s hand, still stroking him harshly. It hit him unrelentingly and he pulsed around Katsuki’s dick, etching sparks with every thrust. The combination of pain and pleasure sent him tumbling face-first, the waves of his orgasm continuing to consume him.

Izuku cried out as Katsuki fucked him through it, his own thrusts faltering in pattern. Izuku heard cracked moans from over his shoulder, and suddenly realized that Katsuki was kissing his back as the feeling only just started to return to his limbs. Izuku went slack on the bed, arms barely holding himself up.

“–love you, God I love you Izuku,” Katsuki’s voice filtered in, and Izuku realized that he needed him to come, he needed Katsuki and he’d never stop needing him. With a fractured groan, Katsuki thrust deeply into him. He grinded his dick, milking his cock in Izuku as he came. He rode out his orgasm, all stuttered hips and beautiful noises showering over Izuku, who greedily took it in.

Just as overstimulation was uncomfortably pricking his skin, Katsuki’s movements slowed to an impossibly gentle grind of his hips, until he practically collapsed onto Izuku. They both bonelessly laid on the mattress– well, Izuku laid on the mattress. Katsuki laid on top of him.

Izuku’s breathing came in shallow pants, trying desperately to catch his breath. Katsuki’s damp forehead pressed into the small of Izuku’s back, warming his skin. His hot breath tickled his skin, and sent shivers up his spine.

“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed, and Izuku found himself agreeing. The blond’s hand traced Izuku’s outstretched bicep, and he continued to press kisses into his back. Izuku stayed silent, not sure if he could exactly form words at the moment, “Are you alive?”

“Yeah,” Izuku’s eyes shut subconsciously, and he relished in the press of his body against his. Katsuki’s gentle movements simultaneously kept him grounded yet threatened to lull him to sleep.

“Good,” Katsuki resituated his head on Izuku’s back, “Ready for another round or what?”

Izuku lazily reached back and slapped his shoulder. He wasn’t ready to do anything for the next 24 hours. He threatened to turn around and give a reprimanding look,  “Bakugou Katsuki–”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he reassured. Bakugou rolled off of Izuku, and he shivered at the loss of Katsuki’s warmth. Izuku wrapped his arm around his waist, drawing them closer and pressing their faces together. Their noses grazed and Izuku stared into those crimson eyes.

Katsuki had leftover admiration shining in his gaze, raking over Izuku and absorbing every aspect of his face. Izuku dissected his expression, taking in the bruises and marks decorating him. They blended in with the hickies, standing out from pale skin, and Izuku could almost pretend that they were the same. To the pair they might as well have been.

Izuku felt the comfort of Katsuki’s heavy gaze laying over him, and let himself get lost in the softness of his skin and the radiating pleasure from the excess satisfaction dripping from the intimacy.

He realized that this was right. If this was the only correct thing in his life, Izuku would be completely satisfied. 

Nothing was like Katsuki.

 

 

Izuku raised his fists. Katsuki did the same, gaze shining with focus. 

“Oh no way,” Kirishima’s eyes went wide and he immediately began backing off of the sparring mat, probably out of an unfortunately justified fear.

They were in the middle of a group training session, with an instructor hired by the agency, and the instructor made the unfortunate mistake of pairing Izuku and Katsuki together to practice the drill.

Izuku for one, would love to kick Katsuki’s ass. He could tell the blond felt the same, if the grin on his face was any indication. They could control themselves, Izuku was sure.

Ashido raised an eyebrow. Kirishima brought her along as a visitor for the lesson, so she seemed to be unfamiliar with their reputation at the agency, “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Katsuki readjusted the curl of his fist.

“No idea,” He hummed with a smirk. Izuku grinned.

He loved fighting Katsuki.

 

Notes:

This was simultaneously horrible and amazing to write, its my first time writing smut so pls be nice to me or ill cry. I also wrote this over the course of like 3 months so if some parts don’t feel like they fit right its probably that

this was inspired by @dahffodil_ on tiktok! their art is amazing, def go check it out, thx for reading