Chapter Text
Katsuki doesn’t do parties
Well, sometimes he does parties. But that’s usually after he’s wallowed in his fucking dorm room for most of the night and pre-gamed a six-pack of beer before drunkenly texting Kirishima to find out which shitty frat house he’s mulling at for the evening so he can tag along.
Katsuki doesn’t do parties if he’s already sober, in other words. Which is why he has no fucking idea how Kirishima managed to drag him to this shitty mixer at some random frat house off campus. It was literally a goddamned thirty minute walk, and Katsuki grimaces as he tugs at his tank top a bit, sweat cooling on his body as they walk through the front door, air conditioning on full blast.
“Why did I let you drag me to this shit hole?” Katsuki grumbles, and Kirishima just laughs and throws an arm around his shoulders.
“C’mon, dude. You’ve been holed away all break working on your summer courses or whatever. I missed you!”
He and Kirishima had met in high school, and Kirishima - Katsuki reluctantly admits - was a huge influence on him tempering his anger, and learning how to properly socialize like a normal human and not like a beast with a stick up his ass. Kirishima worked diligently on breaking down Katsuki’s walls, and somehow wormed his way into becoming Katsuki’s best friend.
But Katsuki would more so cut off his left testicle than actually admit that to the fucker’s face.
“Kirishima! Bakugou!”
Katsuki’s gaze snaps up to see Mina running towards them from the living room, and Katsuki grunts when she wraps him up in a hug.
“Get the fuck off of me,” Katsuki grunts.
“I haven’t seen you all summer, you stupid hermit!” She squeals, and yes, she’s most definitely already drunk. It’s barely nine o’clock in the evening, and Katsuki rolls his eyes. Goddamn lightweight.
Mina turns, finally releasing Katsuki from her clutches so she can launch herself at Kirishima, who catches her in his arms and swings her in a circle happily.
“Is anybody gonna get me a goddamn drink?” Katsuki mutters, but he’s ignored in favor of a flash of yellow barreling past him, a loud thud as Kirishima is knocked to the floor by none other than Kaminari.
“Dude!” Kaminari wails, sighing wistfully as Kirishima manages to stand up with Kaminari’s lithe form still clinging to him like a koala. “I missed you.”
“Aww, I missed you too! How was your trip overseas?” Kirishima grins, finally peeling Kaminari off of him so he can stand upright on his own.
Kaminari pouts. “It was fun, but two months without you was torture .”
Katsuki refrains from actually gagging. The two gross lovebirds had been skirting around each other since their first fucking year of high school, and only about four months ago did they actually get their shit together and confess. It’s disgusting, but Katsuki’s glad because now he doesn’t have to deal with both of them whining to him anymore as if Katsuki could somehow fix their stupid miscommunication.
And, in all reality, Katsuki knew that they’d be that stereotypical mushy affectionate couple that would grate on his nerves every minute of every day. But he’s still…. happy for them, or whatever.
God, he needs a drink.
“Ah, Bakugou, my man! How’re you?” Kaminari says after he’s sufficiently bruised Kirishima’s mouth with his own.
“Fucking tired.”
“D’ya want a beer or something?”
“Or something.”
Kaminari rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. Stay here.” He turns to Kirishima. “Babe, you want anything?”
“Yeah,” Kirishima calls as Kaminari is walking backwards towards the kitchen. “That ass!”
“I fucking hate you both,” Katsuki deadpans. Mina cackles and slaps Kirishima on the back, and god why do his friends fucking suck? Kirishima waggles his eyebrows at him while Mina hangs off his arm, and Katsuki glares and scans the crowd in front of him. “If I’m not fucking drunk in the next hour I’m leav - ”
His words die in his throat as he glances into the archway of the living room to see a small crowd of people surrounding a guy with unruly green hair. His back is towards them, so Katsuki can’t see his face, but his eyes widen as he sees the dude actually lift a girl up in the air over his head, then back down, then up again - and it’s then Katsuki realizes the dude is legit bench pressing a fucking person.
He’s wearing a soft looking light blue shirt that stretches obscenely over his muscles and biceps, and shit, the dude is ripped . His shoulder blades shift when someone else begs to be lifted too, and this time, it’s a pretty tall, hefty looking guy instead of the petite girl from earlier. The ease with which the dude lifts and lowers the guy has Katsuki’s skin crawling, and he’s suddenly aware of how long it’s actually been since he’s gotten properly laid.
“Yea, I'm going to ride that,” he says to no one in particular, right as Kaminari returns and presses a drink in his hands. It smells fruity and strong, and Katsuki pinches his nose and downs it in three gulps before his eyes travel back to the living room.
Mina whoops and downs her own drink. “Yeah, Bakugou, get some!”
“What are you riding?” Kirishima asks innocently, following the trail of Katsuki’s sights before making a pleased noise. “Oh! Midoriya?”
“You know him?”
Kirishima nods. “Yeah! He was in my chem class last semester! Super sweet guy, just moved here last year. I heard he broke the record in the university's weight lifting department.”
“You don’t fuckin’ say,” Katsuki says, grabbing Kirishima’s drink and taking a large gulp. He makes a face, turning towards Kaminari. “Did you just bring him straight tequila? The fuck?”
Kirishima makes grabby hands for his gross ass drink, and Katsuki takes another burning gulp before shoving it back.
“What? He can handle it!” Kaminari says, sliding under Kirishima’s arm and nuzzling into his side. “He likes it on the rocks, right babe?”
“It’s not even - there’s no fucking ice it’s literally just lukewarm shitty tequila - fuck it, nevermind. You guys are so fucking weird.”
His eyes stray back to the living room to see the guy has turned and is chatting with a few others sitting on the couch, and now Katsuki can see his face. Are those fucking freckles? God, save his soul.
“You know, he’d probably bench press you too, if you ask nicely!” Mina says, sliding next to him and sipping on her own drink.
“What part of ‘ ask nicely’ and me actually go together?”
Mina rolls her eyes. “What, you want me to ask for you?”
“ No.”
Midoriya laughs from across the room, and Katsuki’s stomach sinks, because it sounds stupidly warm and inviting and so... sweet .
“Shit,” Katsuki rasps, his eyes narrowing in on that thousand-watt smile. “I want to impale myself on his fucking co - ”
A hand slaps over his mouth, and Katsuki growls before smacking Kaminari’s palm away. “The fuck, Pikachu?!”
“You’re so nasty , Bakugou.”
“He’s thirsty! Let him be!” Mina chides, and Katsuki is secretly thankful that she’s fully supportive of his whore activities. “You should go talk to him!”
“I’m not drunk enough yet,” Katsuki grunts, but then his eyes are widening when Kirishima, of all fucking people, smirks before yelling out,
“Oi! Midoriya! Over here!”
Katsuki whips his head towards his now ex-best friend. “You cocksucking piece of shit I’m going to shove my fist so far down your throat - ”
“Kirishima?” A warm voice says. “Hey! Wow, it’s sure been a while, huh!”
Katsuki flicks his gaze over to see Midoriya standing right in front of him , and jesus, he’s even more built up close. He’s not that much taller than Katsuki, but his biceps look bigger than his fucking head. His hair looks soft and curly, and Katsuki wants to tug on it until he screams.
He supposes half a year of jerking off alone in his room has really pent up his fucking thirst. He feels almost shameless in the way he stares, but then Midoriya laughs again, and Katsuki ducks his head as he snatches Mina’s drink to hide behind.
“Bakugou! Stop stealing other people’s drinks and get your own,” She whines, tugging her cup back and holding it protectively against her chest.
“Oh, do you need a drink? What do you like?”
The measly amount of alcohol in his system is already warming him up, fuzzing up his brain, and his mouth goes dry as he realizes Mr. Biceps is talking to him . He’s not - he’s not fucking ready for this, shit.
“The fuck,” Katsuki says eloquently, and Kaminari snickers into Kirishima’s shoulder. “What do I like?” I like your arms, Katsuki wants to say, I like your tight ass shirt and your stupid freckles and -
“Vodka, whiskey, beer? I’ll go get you something,” Midoriya says sweetly, green eyes twinkling down to stare into Katsuki’s slightly narrowed red ones.
“Just get him something strong,” Kirishima helpfully supplies, wrapping an arm around Kaminari’s waist.
Katsuki whips his head to stare at him. “Ex-fucking-scuse you, don’t open your mouth for me, shitty hair.”
Kirishima laughs so hard he nearly topples over at the shocked look on Midoriya’s face, and Katsuki winces because he forgets sometimes, that normal friends don’t… usually interact with each other the way Katsuki does with his friends.
“Uh,” Midoriya says, laughing nervously.
“Just - fucking surprise me, or whatever,” Katsuki grunts, crossing his arms across his chest and trying not to stare at any one part of Midoriya’s sculpted body for too long. He swears his mouth is going to salivate if the fucking dude keeps standing there for much longer.
Luckily, he’s spared the embarrassment as Midoriya salutes him and waltzes over to the kitchen. Katsuki finally releases the breath he’s holding, and Mina pats him on the shoulder.
“You really need to work on your flirting skills, dude.”
“I don’t need to fucking flirt with someone to convince them to shove their dick up my ass.”
“It’s more romantic that way!”
“I don’t need stupid romance.”
“Wasted opportunity,” Mina sighs, and Kirishima hums in agreement.
“Yeah, dude,” Kirishima says, “Midoriya’s last boyfriend? I heard the guy woke up on his birthday to his entire room flooded with red roses. I bet Midoriya would lay you down and bone you sweetly under the stars if you asked.”
“Well I’m not fucking asking for that, am I?” Katsuki growls, because he’s on a mission , and his mission is to release the beast that he knows is hidden inside that sweet, sweet little face. Katsuki has a talent for bringing out the animalistic side in his sexual partners, and he fully blames that on his bratty fucking personality, which he carries with pride. “If I wanted to make love , I’d just go jack off in front of a mirror, you fucking idiots.”
He spots Midoriya walking towards them, two drinks in his hands, and when he hands one off to Katsuki, he says, “I hope you like it. I mixed it myself!”
Right as Katsuki grunts and goes to take a sip, Midoriya inches just a tad closer and says, “I made it extra strong for you.”
Ohhhh fuck, is this little shit flirting with him? Is that what’s happening here?
Katsuki feels heat crawl up his neck and settle in his face, but it also just might be the booze as he takes a long, searing drink of whatever concoction Midoriya has made for him. It’s tangy, with a strong hint of flavored vodka, and Katsuki guesses there may or may not be at least four shots in this thing. The dude was right, he definitely made it strong.
“So, you’re a friend of Kirishima’s?” He says conversationally, and Katsuki doesn’t notice that Mina has grabbed Kaminari and Kirishima by the shirts and has successfully dragged them away.
He’s gonna have to thank her later. Kirishima, too. His friends fucking suck, but at least they make good wingmen.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “Been friends since high school. God knows why.”
Midoriya laughs again, and when Katsuki finally manages to look at his face again, he feels some sort of recognizable twinge. Huh.
“You went to high school around here?” Katsuki squints at him. Something seems….. familiar about this guy. His eyes? His stupid fucking freckles?
“Ah, actually, I moved away when I was…. five? I think? I was super young,” Midoriya says. “My mom and I moved back here last year though after she remarried.”
Something clicks, and Katsuki averts his eyes, scanning the body shamelessly in front of him, but when his eyes land on Midoriya's bright red sneakers, his expression freezes and his eyes widen comically.
“No fuckin’ way.”
Midoriya tilts his head to the side, and Katsuki swallows thickly. He’s so fucking built now, like a damn tank, but there’s no mistaking those expressive eyes. There’s absolutely no way that this was the kid who used to live across the street from him when he was younger. That kid was scrawny, weak, a fucking crybaby . He slobbered all over Katsuki’s shoes as if he was god himself.
This man, standing before him, looks like he’s the one who has the entire world slobbering at his feet. He’s sweet, his demeanor unmistakably kind, but there’s an air of confidence that says he won’t take bullshit from anyone.
There’s no fucking way that this fucking oak tree of a man could possibly be -
“Deku.”
Midoriya blinks in shock, then confusion. "What - no one's called me that since - " and then finally, molten recognition. His eyes widen. “Kacchan? .”
Now it all makes sense. Midoriya... Izuku, he thinks? Yea. Shit. Midoriya fucking Izuku. Katsuki barely remembers him - they parted ways when he was five years old, okay? His memories aren’t that good, but now that he’s really thinking about it, flashes of moments pan through his mind like a camera roll.
Katsuki barks out a surprised, incredulous laugh. “Holy fucking shit. You? You were that scrawny fuck that was obsessed with me as a toddler?”
Midoriya - no, Deku - rolls his eyes. “And you were the one who gave me that awful nickname, if I remember correctly?”
Katsuki snorts. “Yeah, well damn , you sure did fill out, huh?” Because fuck it, sure, he might’ve been an awful, horrible, bully as a child, but that doesn’t negate his current college-age horniness, and it doesn’t negate Midoriya’s current high-tier attractive levels.
Deku got fucking hot . Sue him. Maybe his shitty bullying past will make Midoriya plow him ten times harder, if he plays his cards right.
Midoriya flushes at Katsuki’s comment, but his grin is confident. “Yeah, getting picked on seemed to be a really great motivator to start exercising.”
Katsuki feels a sting of guilt at that, but Midoriya’s expression isn’t dampened in the slightest. If anything, his gaze has sharpened a bit, and he steps closer to Katsuki, until the blonde feels the wall hit his back.
“Now, who would’ve thought I’d grow up to be stronger than you, Kacchan?”
The nickname - he hasn’t heard it in years , yet hearing it now, in Midoriya’s deep, warm voice, is really doing things to him. Katsuki squares his shoulders, because, as he’s stated before, he is going to ride this man.
Katsuki’s going to take his cock so good that Midoriya is going to cry , just like the bitch he was when they were kids.
“Stronger? Ya sure about that?” Katsuki tests back, taking the last few gulps of his drink before setting it on some random side table in the foyer they’re currently occupying. The multitude of booze in his system has officially taken height, and he licks his lips, eyeing the broadness of Midoriya’s shoulders through his shirt.
“You were watching me earlier, weren’t you?” Midoriya chuckles. “I know you saw me in the living room.”
“Whatever.” Katsuki’s stomach feels tingly at the memory of Midoriya lifting those stupid college kids like it was nothing. “It wasn’t even that impressive.”
“Want me to lift you?”
“Fuck no,” Katsuki growls, shoving a hand against Midoriya’s chest, but then his fingers curl into the fabric, and it’s just as soft and worn as it looks. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Jeez, you’re still as vulgar as ever.”
Katsuki frowns. “I wasn’t vulgar, I was five .”
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you already knew at least four cuss words.”
“That doesn’t - who fucking cares! Are you going to dick me or not?”
“What makes you think I want to have sex with my childhood bully ?” Midoriya asks, but he moves closer, close enough that the tips of their shoes touch.
Over Midoriya’s shoulder, he can see Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina grinning at him and making some awfully obscene hand gestures. Katsuki rolls his eyes, turning back to Midoriya, and he’s pleased to see that Midoriya’s gaze is traveling down, giving him an obvious once over.
Katsuki smirks. He’s not as built or as thick as Midoriya’s gotten, but he has his fair share of muscle. Broad shoulders, a tapered waist, a bit more on the leaner side with legs for days , so he knows he’s fucking attractive. He’s very aware of this fact, and he’s glad he decided to wear his smaller tank top, the one that rides up just above his hip bones if he stands straight enough.
“You a virgin or somethin’?” Katsuki taunts, “You need another drink to justify this?”
“I don’t need to justify anything, I’m just a little shocked,” Midoriya chuckles, and wow , he’s not supposed to be cute , he’s supposed to be fuckable . In Katsuki’s experience, those two things aren’t ever mutually exclusive, okay. No one should have the right to be both, what the fuck.
“What? Shocked that someone wants to smash you?” Katsuki sneers, because aggression is his scapegoat, his comfort .
“No,” Midoriya says easily, and then two hands come up to grab him by the hips, and holy shit his hands are huge . “I’m just shocked that you turned out to be such a bottom.”
Katsuki growls. “Fuck you, Deku . Just because I like taking dick doesn’t mean I’m anyone’s bottom bitch, you hear me? I’m gonna make you beg for this ass.”
“See, Kacchan, that’s where you’re wrong,” Midoriya says, tightening his hands, digging his thumbs into Katsuki’s hip bones until Katsuki gasps. His body feels warm from intoxication, cheeks ruddy because his pale complexion can’t hide anything, and Midoriya's breath on his lips smells like beer.
Katsuki is going to climb this fucking man like a tree.
“Take me upstairs.”
“Do you even know whose house this is?” Midoriya laughs, and he’s so close Katsuki just wants to lick into his mouth, but his friends are standing just on the other side of the room and Katsuki can’t guarantee he’d be able to keep his cool if they started cheering like a bunch of children .
“I don’t care,” he says, and grabs Midoriya’s wrist to drag him up the stairs and - oh, yep, there’s the fucking cheers.
“Yeah! Bakugou, get some!”
“Live your best life, sweetie!”
“Bone him gently, Midoriya! It’s what his bitter heart needs!”
“Shut the fuck up, Kaminari!” Katsuki screeches, already halfway up the stairs while Midoriya laughs loudly, trailing behind him.
Once they’ve managed to locate an unoccupied room (after two other failed tries), the door is quickly slammed behind them, Katsuki pressing Midoriya up against the closed door and pressing their mouths together. He bites at Midoriya’s lower lip, and Midoriya is quick to wrap his arms around Katsuki’s body, walking him backwards until they hit the edge of a mattress.
“Oi, don’t think you’re gonna be on top, Deku,” Katsuki growls, shoving Midoriya down onto the bed, pushing impatiently until he’s sitting with his back to the headboard. Katsuki wastes no time in crawling into his lap, settling down comfortably and grabbing Midoriya by the hair to wrench his head back. He’s running this show here, and he’s going to make Midoriya fuck him exactly how he wants it.
But then, Midoriya hums, and his hands slide up Katsuki’s sides in order to rest at his waist and - oh. Oh fuck .
His hands are fucking huge - yes, Katsuki’s established this already, but. No, really, Midoriya’s hands are fucking huge .
His fingers are long but thick, palms rough with callus from weight lifting, and his hands seem to almost encompass Katsuki’s entire fucking waist, jesus.
“Shit,” Midoriya curses quietly, squeezing tightly, almost tight enough to be uncomfortable as his fingers drum against Katsuki’s lower back, his thumbs pressing in right beneath his ribs. Katsuki squirms, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly, and he grips Midoriya’s shoulders for dear life.
“Your waist is tiny ,” Midoriya breathes, as if the thought itself is enough to send him straight to the height of boner town. “Holy shit.”
“Shut up,” Katsuki whispers, because he feels hot , he feels hot all over, sweat beading up at his temples, his hands shaking. He wants those hands around his waist for days , he wants those hands around his throat, he wants those fingers up his ass . “My waist isn’t fucking tiny , you just have freakishly large hands, you goddamned mutant.”
“I mean, objectively,” Midoriya says, and he sounds breathless. “Yes, I do have rather large hands. But Kacchan, your waist is small . I can - I think I can wrap my hands around it almost all the way.”
“Shit,” Katsuki groans. “Shit. Shit, fuck, fuck, Deku, where’s the fucking lube .”
“I didn’t come here tonight expecting to get laid, you did,” Midoriya laughs, eyes still glued onto his hands where they’re happily curled around his waist.
He’s right, and Katsuki blinks the haze from his mind as he fumbles in his pocket for the tiny travel sized bottle of lube and the two condoms that he shoved in there before leaving his dorm today. He rolls off of Midoriya’s lap so he can wiggle out of his jeans and boxers, and once he’s naked from the waist down, he turns to see Midoriya watching him hungrily.
Katsuki smirks. He pops open the lube, crawling back towards Midoriya, and once he’s back in his lap, he rises a bit onto his knees and grabs Midoriya’s wrist to messily slick his fingers up before tossing the bottle aside.
“C’mon,” Katsuki commands, wrapping an arm around Midoriya’s shoulders for leverage, his other hand reaching behind him to spread his cheeks. “Fucking finger me, already.”
Katsuki buries his face into Midoriya’s messy curls when he feels a finger breach him, and oh fuck yes, his finger is thick, strong. It feels so much better than he imagined, and he growls as he fucks back onto Midoriya’s hand. A second finger is added soon enough, both of them getting impatient, and soon Midoriya’s got three fingers thrusting in and out of him, curling inside, spreading and petting along his walls, and Katsuki keens when those fingers hook on his prostate.
“God, yes, yes,” Katsuki sighs, rocking back roughly, and he’s about to pull Midoriya’s fingers out and sit on that dick like a goddamn saddle, but he gasps when Midoriya removes his hand. The next thing he knows he’s being thrown onto the bed onto his back, and when he blinks open his eyes, he sees Midoriya looming over him.
He’s still fully clothed, but he’s pulled his cock out of his pants, biting through a condom wrapper and quickly rolling it on.
“Oh,” Katsuki breathes. “Oh fuck no, I’m riding you , you stupid piece of - ”
“Shh,” Midoriya says, and when Katsuki goes to open his mouth again, one of those large hands comes up to wrap around his neck, pressing him into the bed. Katsuki’s words die in his throat. “You’re going to lie there just like this, and I’m going to fuck you.”
Earn it, Katsuki wants to spit, eyes narrowing in as Midoriya slicks up his cock. You have to fucking earn this.
But, in reality, deep down, Katsuki knows Midoriya earned it as soon as those hands gripped his hips downstairs in the foyer.
He throws his head back into the pillows when Midoriya pushes in, and when that hand tightens around his throat, Katsuki’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head. God, he’s so full , and Midoriya is so big looming over him, all encompassing and almost suffocating.
He opens his mouth to scream, to curse, to do anything .
All that comes out is a big, slutty whine.
His cheeks burn, and Midoriya’s lips curl into a smirk. It doesn’t quite fit his face - Katsuki’s used to the sweet, cotton candy grins - but damn is it sexy as hell.
Midoriya nods to Katsuki’s knees. “Hold your legs up, spread yourself for me.”
Katsuki’s hands move without thinking. “Fuck you,” he rasps, even as his sweaty hands hook under his knees and spread his legs, tucking them up as far as they can go. Midoriya’s hair hangs down over his forehead, and his eyes can’t seem to leave Katsuki’s face. It should be embarrassing - it is embarrassing - but all Katsuki can feel is the rough, rhythmic movements of Midoriya’s hips slamming into him.
“Feel good?” Midoriya asks, leaning down so his nose can brush against Katsuki’s jaw. His hand is tight around Katsuki’s throat, but not tight enough to really do much yet, so Katsuki inhales shakily, feeling his head swim with pleasure.
He faintly hears the headboard knocking into the wall, and his hands slip, legs falling open and slack as his strength leaves his arms.
“Can’t even hold your legs up like I asked?” Midoriya tsk’s, and he releases Katsuki’s throat in order to grab his wrists, pinning them above his head. “Keep them there, don’t move them.”
Katsuki grips the headboard until his knuckles turn white, and Midoriya takes his hand back in order to wrap around his waist again, squeezing so tight that Katsuki can feel bruises searing into his skin. Midoriya makes him feel so fucking small , and Katsuki writhes against the bed, his fingernails digging into the wood of the headboard as he wails when Midoriya slams into his prostate.
“RIght there, huh?” Midoriya rasps, hooking one leg over his shoulder and leaning down, fucking into him so hard Katsuki sees stars . “God, you’re drooling. That’s adorable.”
Katsuki curls his toes, his back arching. “Touch me, you fuck, touch me.”
Katsuki would touch himself but - well, Midoriya told him not to move his arms down, and he’s gone submissive enough mentally that his body is obeying the command without even a fight.
The bed creaks, and Katsuki can feel his eyes sting with tears. He was supposed to be the one turning Midoriya into a disgusting, pathetic, drooling mess. He was supposed to sit on Midoriya’s cock and edge him until he begged Katsuki for release, please Kacchan, please please let me come -
But Midoriya decided to take what he wanted, exactly how he wanted, and Katsuki’s legs feel like jelly. He can’t think, he can’t speak, and when Midoriya slides a hand up his waist to hold him against the bed by his throat as he milks himself to orgasm within the confines of Katsuki’s tight ass, the blonde’s voice cracks on a scream. Midoriya’s grinding right against his prostate, and Katsuki’s gonna come , holy shit he’s actually gonna come, just from this, just from -
Midoriya’s thumb presses into his windpipe, and Katsuki’s vision goes fuzzy as he orgasms, back as tight as a bowstring and toes scrunched up so hard his feet cramp. He can’t make a noise as the breath is stolen straight out of his lungs, and he vaguely feels a few stripes of come land in the dip of his collarbones with the force of his release.
Midoriya moves his hand away from his throat, smoothing a thumb gently along his adam’s apple before wiping off a few globs of come from his chest.
Katsuki lets out a trembling exhale, his body tingly all over. “Holy fuck.”
“You okay?” Midoriya asks sweetly, brushing blonde hair away from Katsuki’s sweaty forehead.
“I think your cock has actually ruined my asshole.”
“Ew, Kacchan,” Midoriya laughs, reaching over and grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to wipe them down with. Jesus, Katsuki sure came a lot. He hasn’t come that hard in a long ass time.
Katsuki’s still kind of peeved that Midoriya rammed him so fucking good. He honestly doesn’t think he’s gonna get fucked like that ever again. Midoriya has officially ruined casual sex for him, holy mother of fuck. This is bad.
“Give me your number,” Katsuki says, panicked as he sits up on his elbows, still naked as Midoriya disposes of the condom and buttons up his own jeans. He’s gonna need Midoriya’s cock at least once a week for the rest of his life if he wants to sustain a healthy and satisfying sex life.
“Um - are you… I mean, sure, I guess?” Midoriya has the nerve to sound flustered, which, okay, no . Midoriya has no goddamn right to fuck him so hard that Katsuki sees jesus, and then afterwards get all blushy and adorable , as if he can’t fathom the thought of someone asking for his number. Midoriya’s a fucking powerhouse, he must be getting bitches’ numbers left and right. Like, he was literally just bench pressing people in the living room earlier, how the hell is he even single?
Whatever. Katsuki doesn’t care, obviously, but. It’s the principle of the thing, of course.
And maybe a secret part of Katsuki does want Midoriya to lift him, but he’s not mentally ready - or drunk enough, never drunk enough - to truly admit that to himself quite yet.
“We should probably head back downstairs,” Midoriya says after typing his number into Katsuki’s phone and sending himself a quick text. “‘I bet your friends are wondering where you are.”
They finish straightening their clothes up, splashing some cool water on their faces to try and wipe off the stale sweat. Katsuki knows his hair is probably fucked-out, but oh well. It’s not like everyone isn’t already gonna know what they just did. It’s a college party , two people with doped out expressions walking shakily back downstairs is the most mundane average sight anyone will ever see.
Katsuki solely underestimates himself though, because as soon as he starts walking, the soreness in his ass really makes itself known. He tries not to limp, but with the way Midoriya’s hiding an amused grin behind his hand, Katsuki’s probably not doing a very good job at walking normally.
“You good?” He asks, reaching out a hand to steady him at the top of the stairs.
Katsuki growls and slaps his hand away. “I feel like a million fuckin’ bucks. Let’s do this.”
He spots Kirishima and Kaminari in the living room, watching as Mina attempts to arm wrestle with some chick she’s probably going to end up eating out later, and when Kaminari spots Katsuki shuffling over to them, Midoriya trailing behind, he lets out a whoop loud enough to make Kirishima wince next to him in surprise.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” Katsuki growls. He really needs another drink in his hand, fucking stat .
And Midoriya, bless his stupid, stupid soul, shows up a few minutes later after disappearing to the kitchen, and he hands Katsuki an ice cold beer.
“Sorry if I was too rough,” Midoriya whispers into his ear, and Katsuki’s face goes up in flames.
“Don’t you fucking apologize,” he warns. “Next time it’s my turn.”
Kirishima and Kaminari make disgusting, vulgar noises at them even though Katsuki’s glaring hard enough to turn coal into diamond and then back again, but Midoriya just chuckles and places a warm hand on his lower back where his tank has ridden up.
The touch definitely feels like a promise for a next time, and Katsuki smirks because he swears on all of his stupid friend’s lives that the next time he gets his hands on Midoriya’s cock, he is going to ride the shit out of it.
Mark his damn words.