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[NSFW] FIC - "Murder God"
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 17:08:13 +0000 UTCDKBK | canonverse | post-canon | established relationship | pro heroes | explicit sexual content
Izuku and Katsuki attend their first charity event as pro heroes—a Halloween gala, costumes required. On first impression, Katsuki’s costume is a little underwhelming until Izuku sees what he’s wearing underneath.
Inspired by one of my absolute favorite Bakugou fanarts by doodlejoops.
==
MURDER GOD
The Heroween Ghoula was meant to be a charity event, jointly hosted by UA and Shiketsu, with guest alumni and chaperones from among school staff.
What it became was a costume contest the likes of which rivaled even the Met Gala.
A thick red carpet covered the stairs leading into the venue, cordoned off from flocks of reporters and fans. Although Izuku had been assured arriving early wasn’t necessary, this was his first hero event as a pro and he wanted to make a good impression.
Unfortunately, that meant having little to do after greeting sponsors and organizers besides eating hors d'oeuvres and watching the red carpet for Katsuki and their friends.
Not so unfortunately, it also meant he got to watch his fellow heroes arrive in full festive regalia. If there was something Izuku rarely got tired of, it was observing pro heroes in their element.
Next to arrive, also fashionably early, was Hawks. He descended from the sky like an avenging angel, painted entirely in gold, wings included, and draped in an extravagant toga. Thin braided belts held the fabric together, and dozens of dainty gold chains hung from his neck and shoulders. A halo of sun rays, sharp as stakes, wreathed his hair.
Aizawa—an involuntary chaperone standing nearby, dressed as a mummy—took one look at him and threw back an entire flute of champagne.
From there, the costumes grew more bizarre. Best Jeanist came as a vintage pair of jeans, and Mirko as Armored All Might, custom prosthetics and all. Endeavor, chronically stoic even in retirement, arrived in a black tuxedo, but that could’ve been to offset Todoroki, who wore a red panda onesie.
With his friend beside him looking like a lifesize plushie, Izuku resumed watching the red carpet. His fingers played anxiously with one of the furry white tails attached to the waist of his ivory silk hakama. Even though he’d confided in Katsuki the moment he decided on his costume, Katsuki had refused to reciprocate.
Apparently, it was a surprise. Anticipation buzzed beneath his skin.
“There’s Kirishima,” Todoroki said, pointing with an oversized glove shaped like round paws.
Sure enough, Kirishima was making his way down the red carpet wearing little more than a pair of red-furred pants that looked suspiciously like the shag carpet in Ashido’s living room and boots made to look like hooves. Two enormous horns had been strapped to his head, and his nose was painted to resemble a bull’s. Beside him, Ashido was dressed to match—a pink cow-print bodysuit and a bell around her neck.
If Kirishima was here, then Katsuki couldn’t be far behind. Izuku tugged at his haori, resisting the urge to scratch underneath the long white wig and fox ears covering his green curls. He’d wanted to arrive with his boyfriend but hadn’t wanted to push, especially after Katsuki had scoffed at Izuku’s interest in couples costumes.
Behind the pair of minotaurs, Yaomomo had gone full-blown princess in a sparkling pastel gown made up of layers upon layers of tulle and lace, a ten-foot train, and an enormous gauzy bow at her back shaped to look like wings. Aoyama hovered above her, presumably made weightless by Uraraka, decked out as a crystal chandelier that appeared to be blinding everyone with the misfortune of being behind them.
At last, Izuku spotted a familiar tuft of ash blonde hair sticking out from beneath a black hood. He was partially hidden by Kaminari, who was made up like an extra from a zombie film, but it wasn’t hard to decipher the man’s costume.
Izuku frowned. In addition to his hooded cloak, he carried a massive scythe and his sharp features were hidden beneath skull face paint.
All the mystery for a typical grim reaper costume?
He had to admit, he was disappointed. Katsuki wasn’t the dressing up type so when he did, he went all out. Sure, the scythe was cool and his face paint was immaculate, but overall still… anticlimactic?
Whatever, Izuku was just happy to see him. The moment their friends entered the venue, Izuku hopped to his feet and waved. A few of them broke off to make the rounds, greeting sponsors and doing the adult thing by networking.
Katsuki, though, only waved off something Jirou said and then flashed a wide grin when he caught Izuku’s eye. With the skull makeup, that feral stretch of bared teeth set off small sparks low in his belly. Not an unfamiliar feeling around his boyfriend.
“Kacchan!”
Izuku beamed as Katsuki joined him and Todoroki. He propped his scythe against the floor-to-ceiling window behind them, and then dropped into the chair beside Izuku. Ignoring Todoroki’s greeting, he gripped Izuku’s seat and unabashedly yanked it closer so that their sides were flush.
Izuku ducked his head, hiding his warm cheeks behind his wig. Beneath the table, his hand found Katsuki’s, and he laced their fingers.
Leaning in so that his lips dusted the shell of Izuku’s ear, Katsuki murmured, “You planning to bewitch anyone in that costume, Kitsune-sama?”
A bolt of heat shot through him. Flustered, he bumped his shoulder against Katsuki’s. “Don’t tease. Besides, if we’re talking costumes, what’s up with yours?”
“The hell are you saying? I look amazing.” Katsuki released hand so that he could cross his arms. He looked far too smug.
Head tilted, Izuku gave him a onceover. The cloak covered him from the base of his throat down to his boots. A flicker of red revealed fang-shaped earrings hidden beneath the hood. As for his face… It really shouldn’t be possible for skull makeup to be sexy, but Katsuki wore it so well. And with the black around his eyes, the red of his irises were even sharper than usual.
“Quit imagining me naked, pervy nerd,” he said, smirking.
Izuku sputtered in protest. “I was not—I didn’t—agh, Kacchan! What are you hiding?”
“The speeches are starting,” Todoroki said, unaffected by their exchange. “As much as I’d rather be on patrol, it’s important to pay attention and make connections.”
Izuku nodded, chastised. Katsuki snorted, but he did turn in his seat to face the stage at the opposite end of the banquet hall.
The event coordinator was thanking the heroes in attendance, the volunteers, and each of the sponsors. As he listened, Izuku scanned the other heroes seated throughout the hall. He took a mental note whenever he spotted someone he was especially eager to meet. He’d have to introduce himself later.
Still plastered to Izuku’s side, Katsuki shifted, his hand resting on his thigh. Izuku took a moment to appreciate the ridges of his knuckles, the slender fingers that could spark and explode. Fingers that were… casually rucking up the fabric of his cloak.
Izuku’s gaze darted to Katsuki’s face, but nothing in his expression or body language indicated what he was doing beneath the shield of the table cloth. Transfixed, Izuku couldn’t fight the urge to lower his gaze again. He held his breath, his pulse quickening as those long, pale fingers continued steadily gathering the length of his cloak until he reached the hem, exposing his knee and several inches of milky, muscular thigh.
Swallowing hard, Izuku squirmed in his seat, spreading his legs in the hopes of easing the growing pressure in his groin. What was Katsuki doing? Maybe he was just hot beneath all that black fabric and wanted to air out his legs a little? Yeah, that had to be it. Izuku was letting his imagination (and his dick) get the better of him.
Then, Katsuki reached for Izuku’s hand and shoved it beneath the bunched up fabric. Izuku stiffened, making a small sound of surprise that drew Todoroki’s attention. With a smile that was more like a grimace, he tried to look unaffected as Katsuki guided Izuku’s hand up his thigh.
He should pull away. He should pinch him for trying whatever this was right now. He did neither, his skin tingling where it smoothed against hot, satiny skin. His heart pounded, and sweat began to gather at the nape of his neck beneath the long wig.
God, he was going to lose his mind if Katsuki had shown up to their first charity event completely naked beneath his cloak.
When his hand reached the familiar divot of Katsuki’s hip, instead of more bare skin, his fingertips encountered something… silky? He stilled, heat spreading through his gut as his dick twitched. What the hell?
The compulsion to swallow tightened his throat, but his body refused to obey. With a shaky exhale, he sought more of that silky texture. Except there wasn’t much more of it. He traced the edges, the thin straps hugging narrow hips, and then the delicate, faintly raised pattern of lace that barely covered Katsuki’s heavy cock, already half hard. His own filled out, aching from the sudden but desperate need to see just what, exactly, his boyfriend was hiding beneath his cloak.
After a year of dating, Izuku had seen Katsuki in all manner of undress. But he’d never seen him in… had never even imagined the possibility…
He swore under his breath. But the way the corner of Katsuki’s painted lips twitched up meant he heard.
On the stage, the former number one hero had taken the mic. Izuku tried to focus on the drone of Endeavor’s voice, but no words registered. His ears were filled with white noise and the frantic thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. Beneath Katsuki’s cloak, his palm grew sweaty against heated skin.
He slid his fingers along the dainty trim down his inner thigh, awed by Katsuki’s boldness, and watched as the man’s chest rose and fell with increasing frequency.
Shit. He had to stop. One of them had to be responsible here. If they were caught, they might be blacklisted, Symbol of Peace or not. They would definitely be fired.
He started to withdraw his hand just as Katsuki shifted subtly, hips rising to rub his growing hardness against Izuku’s knuckles. Izuku sucked in a wavering breath, his thoughts flooding with images of that thick cock trapped behind a scrap of lace and silk, the fabric translucent with precum. Saliva pooled in his mouth.
Desire for the blonde man gripped him, no less powerful for how familiar it was. He’d wanted Katsuki for so long that the fact he could have him now would never stop being novel, a long-held wish given shape and substance.
For as long as they’d known each other, Izuku had rarely possessed the ability to turn Katsuki down. And now that they were together, that ability was decidedly dead.
As Endeavor passed the microphone to the current number one, Izuku leaned closer, his hand tightening around Katsuki’s thigh, and murmured, “You were so stubborn about not letting me see your costume beforehand. Don’t keep me waiting.”
He relished the shivery sigh that left Katsuki. Part of him considered standing up there and then and dragging his shameless boyfriend into the nearest alcove. The glance Katsuki gave him from beneath pale lashes meant he wanted exactly that.
He shifted his weight, about to rise when he caught sight of his former teacher. Aizawa was still stationed at the entrance into the banquet hall, watching the stage with a steady if sullen gaze through his scarf’s wrappings, which blended seamlessly into his mummy costume.
As desperately as he wanted to rip the clothes off his boyfriend, he didn’t think he could lead Katsuki past one of the few people who would know immediately what his problem children were up to. So Izuku settled again in his seat, resigned.
It was just as well. He reminded himself that disappearing with his hero partner during the opening speeches at their first hero event wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“Izuku?” Katsuki asked quietly, questioning.
Expression neutral, Izuku trailed his fingers up Katsuki’s inner thigh until his palm cupped the thick shaft of his dick. He stroked it through the sheer fabric, unsurprised to feel his erection extending well beyond the edges of his panties, the leaking tip staining his fingers.
On the stage, the number one was saying something about charity work being the backbone of a hero’s career. As a smattering of applause accompanied the statement, Izuku rubbed his thumb over the fat head of Katsuki’s cock and pressed into the slit. Katsuki’s hips jerked, just the slightest before he regained control of his body, and Izuku smiled as slick smeared across his thumbpad.
Eyes narrowed, Katsuki spread his legs wider before pushing Izuku’s hand more firmly over his length, grinding up against his palm. Content to play along, Izuku spread precum down the exposed shaft before gathering more against his fingertips to rub against the straining lace.
Taut stomach muscles trembled against his knuckles. Katsuki tilted his head, regarding him through intense red eyes.
“Change your mind about wanting your surprise?” he asked, voice low enough to be little more than a gravelly vibration in his chest.
Izuku’s lips pinched into a brief pout as his own erection throbbed. Katsuki knew exactly what his voice did to him, the jerk.
“Patience,” he mouthed and squeezed the other man’s dick in retaliation.
The speeches lasted another excruciating forty minutes, and all the while, Izuku slowly slid his hand up and down Katsuki’s cock. His fingers teased at the head, rubbed pre into his skin, snapped the spaghetti straps against lean hips. He gently massaged the soft skin of his balls, nudged aside the meager strip of lace so they could hang free, dipped lower to rub small circles over his taint, and then withdrew before reaching his entrance.
He smiled sweetly at Katsuki’s frustrated snarl, one finger dragging back and forth over his panties, tracing the pattern of lace across his bulge.
Finally, the last speaker left the stage. On the mezzanine above the banquet hall floor, a full orchestra began to play. Everyone seemed to take this as their cue to stand and stretch their legs, the excited chatter of voices rising to join the music.
Todoroki stood, smoothing down the front of his costume as if he was wearing a three-piece suit rather than an adult-sized onesie that matched his hair. “I’m going to find our friends. Join us once you’re finished flirting.”
Izuku’s face burned, but he didn’t dare remove his hand from beneath Katsuki’s cloak, afraid the movement would give away the fact they were doing a lot more than flirting. Katsuki only flashed their friend a smile that was all teeth, made slightly unhinged by the skull makeup.
Todoroki looked from Izuku’s flustered expression to Katsuki’s grin and said, “I don’t want to know.”
Once he disappeared into the crowd, Izuku quickly withdrew his hand from between Katsuki’s thighs before tugging the black fabric over his exposed leg. Ignoring Katsuki’s amusement, Izuku surreptitiously wiped his hand on a dinner napkin. If there weren’t so many people around, he would have licked his fingers just to see the way Katsuki’s pupils dilated with lust.
“Hero Deku! Dynamight!” came a bright voice.
Izuku sat up straighter as a woman approached their table. It took a moment for him to place her as one of Gang Orca’s new sidekicks. Tonight, she wore a form-fitting gown made entirely of white feathers with a long train of lacy white peacock feathers. A peacock mask rested on her head, pushed up to reveal her purple eyes.
“Higarashi-san,” Izuku greeted with a polite bow.
“It’s Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight,” Katsuki corrected her with an unimpressed sneer.
Izuku cut her off before she could apologize. “It’s nice to formally meet you! How are you enjoying your evening?”
“It’s been lovely!” she said a little too loudly, fingers plucking nervously at the feathers of her gown. “I just wanted to compliment you on your costume! You look, um, quite lovely.” She gestured to his wig and silk haori.
“Oh,” he said, suddenly embarrassed. He was used to being praised for his hero work, but not his appearance. “That’s, um, a friend gave me the idea, and I just ran with it, because otherwise, I probably would have shown up as Silver Age All Might or—ow!”
He whipped around to glare at his boyfriend who had just kicked his shin beneath the table.
Looking confused, she continued, “W-Would you maybe like to dance?”
Both Izuku and Katsuki shifted to stare at her. Izuku blinked. Katsuki scowled. The poor woman grew red.
She gestured vaguely behind her where several couples had taken up dancing to the melodic orchestra. “If you want?”
Izuku tugged at the long white wig, realized he was using the hand that had been touching Katsuki, and quickly lowered it again to his lap. “I’m sorry, I was actually about to drag Dynamight up to dance with me.”
“Hah!?” Katsuki snapped as the woman turned even redder.
“Oh, I see, ah! Sorry! Maybe later then?”
“Maybe,” Izuku said with an apologetic smile.
As she turned away, Katsuki knocked his knee into Izuku’s. “You shouldn’t give them false hope.”
Even though he had absolutely no intention of dancing with her, tonight or ever, Izuku said, “It’s just a dance. It’s harmless.”
“You won’t be dancing with her—”
“Kacchan,” Izuku said, bristling.
“—because you’ll be busy fucking me.”
The rest of Izuku’s words shriveled before the heat in Katsuki’s voice and eyes. Swallowing tightly, Izuku subtly adjusted himself beneath the table, grateful for the loose hakama, and then rose to his feet.
“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
“This is our first event as pro heroes, Kacchan. People will notice if we disappear.” Never mind that he intended to do just that before the specter of their former teacher reminded him of their not-so-distant school days.
“How is that our problem?”
Izuku took a second to melt a little at Katsuki’s use of “our” and then continued. “It becomes our problem when we’re never invited to another hero gala again.”
“Sounds great.”
With a flat look, he simply wiggled his fingers impatiently. Katsuki eyed his hand, bared his teeth, and grudgingly stood.
Beaming, Izuku gripped the sleeve of Katsuki’s cloak and pulled him into the growing number of couples swaying to the orchestra. Some of them were doing a slow waltz around the other dancers, but Izuku simply clasped Katsuki’s hand and rested his other on his shoulder.
He didn’t expect Katsuki to wrap an arm around his waist and yank him close until only their clothes separated them. Tensing, Izuku felt his face go hot as Katsuki guided his body to move with the music. It was only small, slight movements, but with how tightly their bodies were pressed together, it became an unbearable pressure against his dick.
Even through the layers of their costumes, he could feel the hard ridge of Katsuki’s cock grinding against his own—slow, deliberate, exquisite.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, breathless. He pushed without any real effort at Katsuki’s shoulder to try and put space between them. But Katsuki’s arm was like a band of steel at his back, which was frustratingly hot.
Thankfully, no one was paying them much attention aside from some curious glances. While they’d never hidden their relationship status, they weren’t exactly open about it either. They valued their privacy, which they knew would become harder to hold onto as their careers took off.
“Just a dance, right?” Katsuki said with that maddening smirk that made Izuku want to shove him to his knees and thrust his cock between his lips. “Harmless.”
“Behave,” he said through gritted teeth.
His mouth beside Izuku’s ear, Katsuki murmured, “Like how you behaved with your hand on my cock all through those boring ass speeches?”
Okay, that was fair.
Putting an inch of space between them, Katsuki murmured, “If you don’t want my surprise for you, maybe I’ll find someone who does.”
Izuku knew he was teasing. Definitely. Probably. But he couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped at the suggestion.
In the future, Izuku would laugh and challenge the lie, confident in the certainty of Katsuki’s feelings.
But he wasn’t there yet. They’d been dating for a year, which was a long while to some, but only accounted for a sliver of the time Izuku had spent loving him from afar.
The first time Katsuki had kissed him, it felt like coming home. But Izuku hadn’t yet outgrown his insecurities—that maybe he wasn’t enough for the supernova that was Katsuki, that his childhood friend would realize his feelings for Izuku had been driven by guilt and not love, that he could do so much better than a plain, boring, awkward—
His train of thought abruptly ended, because Katsuki kissed him. Izuku blinked, frozen in place, as his boyfriend placed one more chaste kiss to his lips and then drew back.
“I didn’t mean it,” he said softly, frowning but earnest. “It was just a stupid joke. You’re the only one I want.”
Either he’d been muttering his thoughts aloud or Katsuki had easily read whatever expression he’d been making—both were just as likely. Regardless, embarrassment burned his cheeks.
“I know,” he mumbled, looking away from Katsuki’s searching gaze. Which was when he realized more than a few of the couples around them were shamelessly watching their exchange. He could imagine how two newly debuted hero partners—already renowned as war heroes— suddenly and publicly making out could be a surprise.
“Do you?” Katsuki asked, completely unperturbed by their audience. “Because if you think I’d ever wear this shit for anyone else, then that nerd brain has been smacked one too many times by villains.”
That brought out a small smile and a hitched eyebrow as Izuku’s gaze lowered to his throat, where the skull paint continued down his neck. Seeking fingers slid from Katsuki’s shoulder to the collar of his cloak, trailing featherlight touches over his Adam’s apple.
Blushing, he closed his eyes as Katsuki leaned in to kiss him again, brief but sweet. And suddenly, Izuku couldn’t care less about making a good impression or his former teacher’s disapproval or what their colleagues would think.
Flashing an impish grin, Izuku tugged Katsuki off the dance floor by his wrist. He didn’t miss the smug twist of his boyfriend’s mouth.
Izuku kept his gaze forward to avoid accidentally making eye contact with anyone, but he still released a small breath when they passed through the large banquet hall doors into the foyer, where several volunteers stood in small groups. Making a quick decision, Izuku darted down a dimmed hallway lined with numbered doors.
Most of them stood partially open, revealing empty meeting rooms. He selected one far enough from the foyer to avoid being overheard and pulled Katsuki inside. It appeared mostly empty, except for two rows of chairs neatly stacked one atop the other against the far wall. A long table was shoved beneath a single window, bare save for a discarded electric cord.
Izuku locked the door, butterflies fluttering through his belly. When he turned to face Katsuki, his breath caught at the sight of him bathed in the harsh streetlights outside the window.
“Finally,” Katsuki said, all sharp angles and bared teeth behind a grinning skull. He stepped back when Izuku reached for him. “I was fucking patient. Now it’s your turn to wait.”
Biting down on the inside of his cheek, Izuku conceded, leaning back against the door, fists pressed to his sides.
With that wild stretch of a grin, Katsuki gathered up the length of his cloak. He didn’t make a show of it, didn’t bother taking his time. He just gave a cocky little tilt to his head and shucked the fabric up to his chest, exposing everything below to Izuku’s hungry gaze.
“Fuck,” Izuku wheezed. The blood rushed from his head to his dick so quickly that he felt lightheaded.
The panties were little more than a diamond of sheer black lace, held in place by a trio of spaghetti straps that perfectly accented his Adonis belt. It left little to the imagination, particularly the fact that he must have waxed because his skin was completely bare.
But then Izuku dragged his gaze higher and felt the air punched from his lungs. A matching bra covered Katsuki’s pecs, skimpy triangles of black lace over hardened nipples and spaghetti straps crossed to form an X over the scar at the center of his chest.
As Izuku stared, his dick so hard that he thought he might come just from looking at him, Katsuki’s grin grew even wider. His hand disappeared into the folds of black fabric for a moment. Then, in a single smooth motion, he tugged the cloak over his head and tossed it aside.
“Fuck,” Izuku repeated, earning an amused sneer from the blonde man, naked but for the lingerie.
He was… incredible. All hard angles and sharply defined muscles, strength and masculinity in every line—but framed in delicate trim and sheer lace that only underlined how absolutely and breathtakingly gorgeous he was.
The skull makeup didn’t even detract from the look. It was just so… Katsuki. Izuku wanted to devour him.
“Take off your clothes,” Katsuki ordered.
Izuku fumbled to obey, clumsy fingers tugging at his obi. In less than a minute, he was naked as well, his costume and wig discarded on the floor. He only had a moment to catch his breath before Katsuki attacked his lips, biting, licking, claiming, nothing like the sweet pecks he’d bestowed when they were dancing.
He licked into Katsuki’s mouth, and the other man caught and sucked on his tongue, making Izuku moan. Their hands were everywhere, greedy and restless.
“You’re gorgeous. So sexy,” Izuku panted, loving the sensation of hot skin and satin lace against him.
Scarred fingers found his nipple, pressed against the meager bra, and he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger before gently pinching. Katsuki hissed and arched into the sensation.
Izuku filled his palm with the meaty flesh of one pec and leaned down to close his lips around the other nipple, through the black lace. The throaty groan Katsuki made pushed him even closer to orgasm, and he had to take a moment to reel himself in before he came untouched like a desperate teenager.
At nineteen, he was, technically, still a desperate teenager. But that was beside the point.
He bit gently on the sensitive skin, laved his tongue across the hard nub, sucked until the lace was soaked through, and then blew air against the damp fabric, making Katsuki shiver and jerk in his arms.
Before he could give the same attention to the other nipple, Katsuki planted his hands around Izuku’s waist and pushed him away.
“Don’t move,” he rasped, before revealing what he’d removed from his cloak. It was a packet of lube, which Izuku recognized from the box tucked into the back of their bedside drawer.
“Kacchan, I need you.” His skin felt too tight, too hot. He needed to be touched, to feel that powerful body against him.
“I know what you need,” Katsuki growled as he dropped to his knees.
Izuku moaned, hips thrusting against nothing, his nails dragging down his own stomach and thighs. He fell back against the wall beside the door, cupped his balls and pumped his cock before squeezing the base to bring himself back down again.
The orchestra music was a distant hum, and their breaths were loud in the quiet room. He watched as Katsuki ripped open the packet and dribbled some of it onto his chest.
Izuku’s head tilted in confusion, even as he remained snared by the sight of his boyfriend rubbing lube down his cleavage, right between the strappy X that crossed his chest.
“Kacchan?” Izuku asked, uncertain. Was he doing what Izuku thought he was?
With a sly look, he shifted closer so that he was level with Izuku’s cock. Then, peering up at him through hooded eyes, Katsuki slid his palms up his own sides until he cupped his pecs over the bra and pushed them together until they formed a sinful crease of lush skin.
Izuku’s breaths stalled, his dick throbbed. “You… You want…”
The smirk Katsuki gave him was usually reserved for battle, sharp and dangerous. “Fuck my tits, baby.”
“Shit, shit,” Izuku breathed, squeezing again at the base of his cock. “You’re going to make come.”
“Unless it’s inside me, don’t you dare fucking come,” Katsuki growled. “Now get over here. I know you’ve been thinking about it, always playing with my chest and squeezing them. You ain’t subtle.”
Izuku couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed. It was true—Izuku had thought about it. A lot. He just hadn’t expected Katsuki to notice, much less offer it without prompting.
Hands trembling, Izuku guided his length to that incredible press of skin, the head sliding beneath the thin band of his bra. And then he was pushing into the slick pressure, the lube easing the glide of skin against skin.
A moan ripped from his throat as he dropped his head back, hips rolling with slow, steady thrusts. He was leaking so much that he probably wouldn’t have even needed the lube.
“Eyes on me,” Katsuki demanded, voice rough with desire.
Izuku eagerly complied, looking down to see Katsuki dip his head and swipe his tongue across the head. Thank god Izuku had chosen a room farther down the hall because the noises he was making would have certainly drawn attention. He was lost in sensation—slick heat, delicious friction, clever tongue, and the sight of Bakugo Katsuki on his knees, adorned only in black lace and sin.
God, Izuku loved him so much.
He felt his balls tighten, the pleasure so acute it was almost painful. Then Katsuki was moving away, rocking back on his heels when Izuku gasped in protest
“What did I say, Nerd?” He arched an eyebrow, the blonde hair hidden beneath the face paint that had begun to run and smear. After their sloppy makeout earlier, his lips were a mess of black and white streaks. He rose to his feet and turned away to retrieve one of the chairs stacked against the wall. “Now sit your ass down so I can ride you.”
“Thought you said I’d be fucking you,” Izuku said, trying and failing to keep the whine from his voice as he crossed the room to where Katsuki had planted the chair.
He sat, shifted a bit to determine how sturdy it was, and decided it would do. Katsuki didn’t give him any time to object anyway as he straddled Izuku’s thighs, his back to him, and leaned over Izuku’s knees.
As Izuku took the packet of lube from him, he could now see that the panties he wore wasn’t precisely a thong, but it was narrow enough in the back that he could easily push the fabric aside. Which he did, squeezing most of the remaining lube directly between firmly sculpted asscheeks.
Katsuki arched his back, impatient, and as much as Izuku wanted to prolong their pleasure, it was true that the man had waited long enough. So he rubbed a fingertip against the furl of skin, winking and anxious to be filled, before pushing two fingers in at once.
Izuku had fucked him that morning when they were both drowsy and relaxed, so he didn’t need much prep. Once he was four fingers deep, Katsuki grunted and mumbled, “That’s enough,” before rising. Izuku used the last drops of lube to slick his painfully hard cock while Katsuki turned to straddle his thighs again, now facing him.
As Katsuki positioned Izuku’s dick at his entrance, Izuku cupped his face and kissed him. They both moaned into each other's mouths as Katsuki sank onto Izuku’s length.
“I love you,” he murmured as Katsuki began to move, the heat of his body clamping down around him.
Katsuki licked up his jaw before saying, “I knew it wouldn’t take you long this time to start declaring your love.”
“Don’t tease,” Izuku said, fingers sliding into soft blonde spikes.
“Who’s teasing?” Katsuki said before he rose a few inches and sank down again, setting a quick rhythm.
“Kacchan,” he gasped, rocking his hips to meet Katsuki’s.
He needn’t have bothered with how the other man slammed himself down on Izuku’s length, his lips parted with quick, shallow breaths, hands gripping the back of the chair, powerful muscles flexing and straining as he bounced. His cock stuck out over the top of his panties, dark and flushed, thoroughly soaking the lace in precum and lube.
“You feel amazing,” Izuku muttered. “So perfect. So tight.”
“Ah!” Katsuki cried out as he hit just the right angle, cursing fiercely under his breath as he did it again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Izuku, yeah, right there. Right there, fuck me, fuck me, fuck—”
Izuku muffled the rest of his words with his mouth, kissing him deeply, swallowing all those delicious sounds. If they were in their apartment, he would’ve encouraged him to be louder, to voice his pleasure as fiercely as he did everything else.
A curious discovery they’d made together when they began dating was that while Izuku muttered his every thought even during sex, Katsuki was the opposite.
His pleasure was quiet. No less intense, no less heart-shatteringly sweet, just… more controlled. It had taken some time and a lot of mind blowing sex before Izuku managed to coax him into giving up control and expressing his pleasure vocally and loudly.
Now, Izuku cherished every sound—every moan and grunt; soft keening or rough demands for more, harder, faster; the low growl of his desire as he filled Izuku, murmuring filth in his ear as he bent Izuku in half and fucked him until he was the one screaming.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered into his mouth. “I can’t... I’m going to—I need—”
“Yeah,” Katsuki said, his pace not faltering, instead growing faster as he chased his orgasm. His skin glistened with sweat, his lingerie ruined by all manner of fluids, his muscles contracting in anticipation.
Izuku buried his face against Katsuki’s shoulder, pressing his mouth to damp skin and tasting the salt of his sweat against his tongue, as his orgasm rocked through him. He shuddered, fingers clawing at the chair seat, hips thrusting, coming so hard his ears were ringing.
He clenched his jaw through the aftershocks and then overstimulation as Katsuki kept going, eyes screwed shut, back bowed. Katsuki loved coming untouched, but Izuku decided to help him along by rubbing his palm over the head of his cock. That was all it took to push him over the edge.
His cock pulsed, cum spurting over their bellies, painting ropes of white over black lace and pale thighs. Then, all the energy seemed to drain from his limbs as he collapsed against Izuku’s chest, breathing hard and trembling with how hard he came.
“You okay?” Izuku whispered into his hair, hands rubbing soothing circles down his back.
“Gimme me a minute,” he mumbled, sounding adorably exhausted.
They held each other for a few peaceful minutes until Izuku said, “Hey Kacchan.”
His response was a grumpy, “What?”
“We should clean up and sneak out. I don’t think there’s any way we can go back without broadcasting what we were doing.” He nuzzled Katsuki’s neck and snuck a finger between his asscheeks to massage his puffy hole still stretched around Izuku’s softening cock and leaking cum. “Besides, I want to see how soft you are down here. Did you wax it yourself?”
“Like I’d let anyone else near my dick.”
“I want to eat you out,” he said, grinning when Katsuki leaned back to level Izuku with an exasperated look. “You won’t even have to do anything,” he promised. “You can just lie there while I return the favor and make use of your fat cock.”
“You’re so embarrassing.”
“You’re the one who showed up to a hero gala in lingerie.” He sighed. “It’s kind of ruined now, but maybe we can save it. You look so hot.”
“This isn’t the only set I got,” he admitted, a glimmer of that cocky grin tugging at his lips. “Wanna try it on?”
+++
The next morning, Izuku awoke to his phone nearly vibrating itself off their nightstand. When he checked it, he shot upright in bed to see he was being bombarded with texts from their friends and agency. Beside him, Katsuki lifted his messy blonde head and squinted through the morning light streaming in from the window.
Heart pounding with trepidation, he opened his phone and clicked on Todoroki’s texts first. His anxiety transformed into a goofy smile as he read the messages. His friend had linked several articles about the Wonder Duo coming out as a couple by kissing at the gala along with speculation about where and why they abruptly vanished afterward.
These were accompanied by a curt message, which Izuku read aloud:
Todoroki-kun: Congrats on sweeping the media coverage. I think this means you won the costume contest.
A snort came from the pillow where Katsuki had buried his head. “Damn right we did.”
~fin
