Chapter Text
After setting his bag on his desk, Izuku slid into his seat with a soft thump. There were still several minutes left before class started and so he took his time getting out his books and papers. Beside him, Katsuki did the same, flipping through one of their textbooks. Izuku glanced up to see where he settled and smiled when he recognized the chapter that had been given as homework two days ago.
He pulled out a pair of notebooks, one for class and one for his errant notes unrelated to class. He hung his bag on the hook off the side of his desk and flipped through his notebook, looking for where he last left off. As he reread his work, Izuku idly scratched at the bandages on his neck.
“Stop doing that,” Katsuki said.
Izuku glanced up, hands freezing where they were. Katsuki had his cheek in his palm and his elbow on his table. His head was turned towards Izuku. “Eh?”
“Stop scratching.”
“But it itches,” Izuku pouted as he dutifully lowered his hand. “And it feels kind of weird.”
“I don’t care. Don’t scratch it anyway.” Katsuki added extra incentive to his words by leaning over to kick the leg of Izuku’s desk.
Izuku sighed.
“And stop acting like this is such a trial for you,” Katsuki said, kicking his desk again, “You’re the one who chose this.”
“But Kacchan-” Izuku began but he was cut off when another student spoke over him.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” Izuku turned to see Tokoyami standing on the other side of his desk. “I have a question.”
Izuku brightened up, “Yes? What is it?”
For him, it was easy to ignore the angry glare from Katsuki in the back of his head. Katsuki was worried that Tokoyami might ask a too prying question and that Izuku, in his excitement, would answer it. Izuku, on the other hand, was not as worried. Tokoyami seemed to falter for a moment, under Katsuki’s glare as well, before he straightened his back and gave a bob of his head. “Kirishima claims that he saw an invisible creature that was your companion. I wanted to know if that was true or some sort of battle-induced hallucination.”
“Battle induced- People can get that?” Izuku turned around, “Kacchan did you know?”
“Adrenaline does some weird shit to the brain,” Katsuki replied.
“Please focus, Midoriya,” Tokoyami said with a tone of mild exasperation.
Smiling, Izuku turned back. “It’s true. She’s the reason I wanted to speak with you on the bus ride out, yesterday.”
“Your questions made it sound like you don’t know much about her. How recent was this development?” Tokoyami asked. He folded his arms over his chest, but Izuku could see the nervous way he shifted from side to side.
“It’s true I don’t know much about her, but I’m doing tests to find out everything I can.” Izuku quickly put up his hands, “I’m not doing anything inhumane with her! She mostly runs around and interacts with things or people. In fact, yesterday was the first time she ever attacked anything with any seriousness. I think she went a little overboard.”
“...A little overboard?” Tokoyami asked with a tilt of his head.
“Well, she killed that villain.”
There was a pause. Tokoyami blinked.
Kirishima, sitting in front of Katsuki, had turned around to listen in. This is when he chimed in with, “I wondered why she was covered with blood. What did she do?”
“I wasn’t there for most of it,” Izuku said, “But she fought the monster that had taken sensei captive. Tsuyu was there for the fight, I think. And Mineta.” He sat up abruptly and looked to Katsuki, “Don’t let me forget to ask them about that! They might not have been able to see Usagi, but they must have seen what she did. They have invaluable information about her fighting style.”
“Mm,” Katsuki shrugged noncommittally.
“Dude,” Kirishima said, resting his folded arms on the back of his chair, “You were really manly when that blood covered invisible thing showed up! I can’t believe how you just climbed on her back like that. So cool! But didn’t you get a lot of blood on you?”
Katsuki’s red eyes slid off of Izuku and flicked to Kirishima. “When you’re around Deku, you get used to blood getting all over your shit. Why do you think my uniform is mostly black and his is mostly red?”
“Oh, uh,” Kirishima laughed, at a loss for words.
“Back to the point,” Tokoyami interrupted again. “How recent is this development? You treat her as though you just discovered her when most companion-quirks develop in childhood so that the bonded pair can grow up together. Is this not the case with your Usagi?”
“Develop in childhood?” Izuku repeated quietly. This time, when he gave Katsuki a glance, it was one of confusion, of fleeting fear and concern. Katsuki instantly picked up on the difference.
Katsuki went from idly watching to aggressive in a second. He pushed his chair back, hands slamming onto his desk, “That’s enough. Time to fuck off, you little shit. I’m sick of listening to all of the chatter on and on about this stupid bullshit.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku said meekly, but not with any real effort to try and stop him. He nervously ran his hand across the side and back of his neck, rough fingers running over the bandages that covered his skin.
“Midoriya started the questions,” Tokoyami stated, taking the rare stance of arguing with Katsuki. “I was merely-”
“You told him to fuck off before and now I’m telling you the fucking same, asshole.” Katsuki’s volume rose the longer he spoke, “Fuck. Off. I don’t want to hear any more of this.”
“Midoriya,” Tokoyami said, adjusting his attention to him, “We could speak elsewhere-”
“Oh no you don’t,” Katsuki stepped across the aisle, crowding the side of Izuku’s desk. Fire flashed in his eyes and he lay a possessive hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “You’re not going to fucking drag him off to talk to. That’s not going to happen.”
Tokoyami pulled back, affronted. Izuku kept his head bowed, eyes down at his hands in his lap so he they wouldn’t be able to meet each other’s gaze. “Are you serious? You don’t own Midoriya, Bakugou. You don’t control where he goes or who he talks to.”
There was a little ripple of a gasp from the onlooking students. Izuku heard a distant, “Oh my god he actually said it,” from someone. Katsuki’s fingers dug harder into his shoulder but Izuku didn’t even flinch. This kind of confrontation had never happened in their classes in middle school. No one had cared what had happened to Izuku there. No one had cared that Katsuki had seemingly controlled Izuku.
No one had pushed back against Katsuki the way that the Yuuei kids did. They weren’t fearless, but they weren’t scared into submission either.
“Deku belongs to me,” Katsuki declared. The smugness in his voice made Izuku look up. Despite the tight grip Katsuki had on his shoulder, his face was an expression of superiority. “Just because you don’t fucking get it doesn’t make it any less true. Fuck the hell off, birdbrain, because now I’m getting sick of looking at you too.”
“Midoriya is his own person,” Tokoyami insisted, though he did slide back half a step at Katsuki’s glare. “You-”
“Listen you little fuck,” Katsuki lurched forwards, reaching for Tokoyami across the desk. Izuku shot up out of his seat, catching the brunt of Katsuki’s energy and holding him back.
“Kacchan, please,” Izuku said in an undertone. He met Katsuki’s gaze and held it the same way he held Katsuki’s wrist.
Tokoyami had backed up another step, shoulders up and his shadow quirk poking its head out from behind his shoulder. Izuku gave him a helpless little smile and said, “Is it okay if we talk another time? I’m sorry, Tokoyami. I’m very curious about your quirk and I think that you can help me with mine but… now is not a good time.”
Tokoyami’s gaze flicked from Izuku to Katsuki and back. “...Fine. Another time.” He took a step back and then another before he edged away. He never totally put his back to Katsuki, clearly not trusting him to stay back.
Izuku leaned into Katsuki’s grip, “Kacchan-” he whispered.
Katsuki grunted. He twisted his hand around so that he held Izuku’s wrist the same way that Izuku held his. “C’mon.” He dragged Izuku away from his desk, heading for the doorway.
“Kacchan, class is about to start-”
Katsuki glared at him. Izuku sighed and didn’t resist as Katsuki hauled him out into the hallway. The bathroom was close enough, that if they ran too and from it, they probably wouldn’t be that late to class.
Of course, as soon as Katsuki ran, Izuku followed suit.
“Way to poke a stick at the tiger in its cage, Tokoyami. Nice one.” Kyouka said as he walked past.
Tokoyami shot her a sharp look. “Something has to be done. They’re going to destroy each other if we leave them alone. At least there’s something salvageable out of Midoriya.”
Kyouka lifted her head, watching as Bakugou hauled Midoriya out of the classroom. “Are you sure about that?”
Tokoyami turned his head away, “There’s still something good in him. There’s nothing but anger in Bakugou. I know what anger looks like. Intimately.” He stalked to his seat, spine stiff with indignation.
Kyouka shrugged and went back to fiddling with her notes.
Izuku arched off the wall in the bathroom stall, head back in a gasp of pleasure and fingers tangled in Katsuki’s hair. The air was filled with the crude sound of sucking and slurping and his desperate attempts to bring air into his lungs. Katsuki was altogether too good at pulling it out of him again and again.
He bit his bottom lip hard. The scab from the night before broke and he tasted blood. Izuku did his best to keep his voice down, but infrequent pleas dropped from his lips like his blood.
There was a wet popping noise as Katsuki pulled off his cock. “Deku,” he said, his voice rough and low.
Izuku rolled his head around and looked down at Katsuki. “Hnn?” He couldn’t speak words, couldn’t even formulate them in his head. When the hell had Katsuki gotten so good at sucking? Izuku hadn’t realized it.
“You know better than that,” Katsuki said, “Don’t look at the ceiling. Look at me.”
Izuku bobbed his head. Katsuki glared for a second more before he went back to sucking. Izuku had no idea how much time had passed, only that it seemed like Katsuki would be wrapped around his dick forever and a day.
He stared down at Katsuki, eyes transfixed by the image of Katsuki’s lips around him, by the way his cock filled Katsuki’s mouth, by the hungry look that Katsuki gave him in return. Izuku’s hips bucked off the wall, but Katsuki rode those desperate thrusts well enough.
Izuku sobbed out Katsuki’s name when he came, toes curling in his shoes and nails digging into Katsuki’s scalp. He shuddered and continued to shiver as Katsuki sucked him dry, milking him for every last drop.
When Katsuki finally pulled back, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth as he swallowed the rest of Izuku’s cum, Izuku found himself sliding down the wall, unable to support himself on shaking legs. Blearily, he reached for Katsuki, panting, “Kacchan?”
“My turn,” Katsuki said. Izuku nodded in agreement, willing to do whatever Katsuki wanted, just as long as he wasn’t asked to stand. He tipped his head back as Katsuki got up from his knees to stand in front of Izuku. A smile flit across his split lips when Katsuki ran a hand through his dark curls. That hand felt so incredibly good that Izuku groaned, eyes fluttering a little before remaining open.
Sitting at eye level to Katsuki’s groin, Izuku expected to have Katsuki use his mouth. Instead, he found Katsuki kept that one hand in his hair and the other held his own cock. Looking up, Izuku blinked to clear his vision.
With his back to the light, Katsuki’s face was mostly in shadow, but that seemed to do nothing to dull the burning in his eyes. As he worked his hand up and down the shaft of his cock, Katsuki said, “You belong to me, Deku. You. Are. Mine.”
“Yours,” Izuku whispered. He ran his hands up Katsuki’s legs, circling around to the backs of his thighs so he could pull him closer. “Kacchan, please,” his breath was so faint, making his words fainter still. Izuku could barely hear himself over the steady thump of his own heart in his ears, “I want you inside of me, Kacchan.”
“Fuck,” Katsuki said. Izuku opened his mouth, tongue lolling out, and Katsuki took the wordless invitation at face value. He pushed past Izuku’s lips with his cock, thrusting carefully and shallowly at first.
Izuku’s gaze never wavered from Katsuki’s face, even though it meant he had to look straight up. In return, Katsuki’s fingers tightened in Izuku’s hair, pulling him closer and thrusting deeper.
Izuku’s eyes watered as he fought his reaction to gag. His fingers dug into Katsuki’s legs as he struggled to do for Katsuki what had been done for him.
A string of curses and groans filled the air as Katsuki fucked Izuku’s mouth, filling it and his throat as he pushed farther each time. He didn’t last nearly as long as Izuku did, but considering he’d been hard when they’d started and Katsuki had had to work Izuku into the same state first, Izuku wasn’t all that surprised.
What did surprise him was the way Katsuki pulled back as he came, hand on his cock again as he wrung out every last drop. Izuku instinctively closed his eyes as the cum splattered up across his cheek and forehead. He gasped for breath, blood and cum dripping from his split lip to his chin.
Katsuki finally let go of Izuku’s hair. He braced himself against the wall with his arm, looking down at Izuku with an easy, lopsided grin. “Fuck,” he said, “You’re such a goddamn mess, Deku.”
Izuku licked his lips and looked up at Katsuki. His face was hot, not just from the flush that colored his skin but from Katsuki’s cum. He only felt warmer from Katsuki’s compliment and offered up a smile in return. “Only for you, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, “Only for you.”
“So glad you two decided to join us for class,” Shouta said without looking up from his papers as the door to the classroom opened.
“Sorry sensei,” Midoriya and Bakugou said in unison, though Midoriya’s words were sincere and Bakugou’s said with a roll of his eyes.
“Are you really okay to be teaching, Sensei? You’re all… bandages.” Midoriya asked.
Shouta looked up to see that Midoriya had stopped to address him, earnest concern written all over his face. Bakugou had stopped further down the aisle, looking over his shoulder and silent. The rest of the class was quiet as well.
“I’m quite fine to teach,” Shouta said. There was something off about Midoriya’s appearance. His eyes flicked over the boy from head to toe. “After all, injured or not, we must prepare you students for the next battle in your life. There’s no resting on our laurels after only one victory.”
Ah. That was it. There were bandages around Midoriya’s throat. Those hadn’t been there before and, if the reports were accurate, Midoriya had walked away without a scratch on him like the rest of the students.
This wasn’t Shouta’s first year teaching high school. He was well aware of the marks on the neck that students tried and failed to hide every year. However, those were usually single bandages over small hickeys, not wraps around the throat that nearly went up to the jaw.
Midoriya agreed with his statement and headed back to his seat.
Before he got too comfortable, though, Shouta shuffled his papers and said, “After this class, Midoriya, I would like to speak privately with you. Alone privately.”
He didn’t miss the way Midoriya stiffened, or the glance he gave to Bakugou and he certainly didn’t miss the way Bakugou glared at him for the entire class period.
What, Shouta thought to himself as he taught the lesson, did they really think they were being subtle in any way?
All those chaste little kisses that they gave were going to lead somewhere and someone needed to step in before the boys went too far too fast.