Archive of Our Own

It starts like this:

They’re winding down after a rescue and recovery mission that had gone on longer than anyone had expected. Tensions are running high, every last one of the nine pro heroes working on an unhealthy amount (or lack thereof) of sleep. They’re dehydrated, bruised and battered, and at least three of the Heroes are experiencing some form of heat exhaustion. It’s not ideal.

And then. Someone––maybe Chargebolt, maybe Red Riot––looks out at the ruins of what used to be the main tourism district of Enoshima Island, where Deku is being debriefed by the Floodlight Hero, Angler, and says, “Y’know what’s kinda crazy? In the seven years we’ve all known each other, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Deku angry before.”

Everyone pauses, each racking their brain for memory of a time Midoriya Izuku had been legitimately angry. 

Tsukuyomi speaks first. “Izuku expressed feelings of rage frequently in our first year at UA, if I remember correctly.”

Chargebolt shakes his head. “Right, but those were usually because of villains, y’know? It doesn’t count.”

“He got angry at me during our first sports festival,” Shouto points out. “And I’m not a villain.” 

“Wasn’t he angry for you, though? And at your dad? I don’t think that counts, either.”

“What the hell is your point, Denki,” Uravity groans. Chargebolt blinks, clearly surprised by her outburst, but, well, it makes sense. Uravity had recently started training with Dynamight, whose quick temper is nothing if not well-known; besides which, Uravity’s quirk is always the most abused during rescue and recovery missions like this one. 

Pressing on, Chargebolt says, “Well, I’ve never seen Deku really angry, like when it’s not righteous anger, or like– y’know? I’ve never seen him angry for himself.”

All eyes turn to Dynamight, now, who’s been staring blankly at the same piece of rubble ever since the conversation had started. Had even he seen Deku angry before?

“Bakkatsu?” Creati says, and Dynamight looks up at her, scowling. 

“What,” he snaps, and Creati purses her lips.

“Go on then, give us the details! He must have gotten angry at some point in his life, right? Who better to tell us than his childhood sweetheart?” Chargebolt presses, having apparently fried out his sense of self-preservation ages ago.

And fine, maybe Dynamight is having a crisis. Had he seen Deku angry before?

The automatic knee-jerk reaction is of course I fucking have, what the fuck do you think?  

However.

“None of your fuckin’ business, Chargedolt.”

“Aww, c’mon, Bakkatsu!” Chargebolt whines. “Don’t be like that, man!”

Deku chooses this moment to finally return to the rest station, his steel-plated boots clacking loudly on the concrete. “Angler said he’s got his team on the way from Kyoto, so we’re all good to go. Good work, guys!” He catches Chargebolt’s gaze and pales, taking an involuntary step back. “Whoa, Denki– why are you looking at me like that? What were you guys talking about?”

“Have you ever gotten angry? Not angry for someone else, or at a villain, just– y’know, angry for yourself?” Chargebolt asks. Deku blinks. “We were all just talking, and none of us could remember a time when you’ve been really angry.”

Immediately, a chorus of objections goes up.

“I hardly think–”

“Don’t listen to him, Izuku, Denki’s just being–”

“Like hell you need to know, Batteries Not Included–”

“Huh– what? Of course I get angry!” Deku laughs, and everyone falls silent. “I do get pretty irritated sometimes, y’know?”

Chargebolt persists, pestering Deku about how irritation isn’t really anger, but Dynamight doesn’t hear it. 

If Bakugou goddamn Katsuki has never even seen his childhood friend and current lover angry, what kind of boyfriend does that make him? What kind of childhood friend?  

(And if that logic is flawed in any way––which it is––well, nobody is there in his head to dispute it.)

So it goes like this:

Bakugou Katsuki is physically unable to not be the best at everything. This applied to his academics, back when he was in U.A., and before that, middle school and even primary school, and currently to the hero rankings, where he’s rising at a steady, almost unprecedented rate for someone who’d only recently gone independent. Everyone who even tangentially knows about Dynamight knows this.

Less well known, though no doubt widely speculated, is how it translates to his romantic life. Katsuki makes it his absolute duty to be the best lover to his boyfriend, going Plus fucking Ultra for the man in every aspect from cooking, to keeping an eye out for new limited edition Pro Hero merchandise, to making sweet, sweet love to him with passion (or what Eijirou had once described as “terrifying vigorousness” after a traumatic experience for all involved when he’d walked in on Katsuki and Deku, well... getting it on).

This makes it feel all the more insulting when Katsuki realises that despite everything they’ve been through together over the last 18 years, he’s never seen his boyfriend really angry, not even once. The amount of time they’ve known each other is more than four times the length of the time they hadn’t known each other, for god’s sake– how has Katsuki never seen Deku angry?

So Katsuki hatches A Plan.

For the first time since going pro, Katsuki’s and Deku’s scheduled breaks are conveniently syncing for a whole week. On their respective break days, both Katsuki and Deku are typically confined to their shared apartment under threat of house arrest from their agents, itching and buzzing and chomping at the bit to go out and do good as they can finally, now that they’re fully-fledged Pro Heroes. Usually, Katsuki ends up obsessively cooking, doing meal prep beyond the capabilities of even Deku’s heightened metabolism, while Deku watches pro hero footage on Youtube and analyses their fighting styles, making notes in one of his many, many, many notebooks, mumbling up a storm the whole time.This time, though, Katsuki’s going to be doing some of his own analysis.

Solving The Unsolvable: Project Infuriate Deku (STUPID for short)

Deku says he’s never been angry before but I’m pretty s I know FOR A FACT that this is bullshit. He gets pretty fucking petty when I do, and when his nerd friends are being stupid.

How to make Deku angry  (This part of the entry is underlined no less than five times.)

Possible methods:

• Put his nerd merch away
• Pretend to insult my abilities 
• That won’t work, it’ll just be him defending me on my behalf like the over-empathetic loser he is
• ????
• Wake him up early 
• Sexual anger? It might be pretty hot
• Stop doing chores
  

Plan A goes like this:

It’s the first day of their week-long break and Deku’s out to get groceries. Katsuki, alone at home, is blasting music through the apartment as he cleans in a frenzy. His mission is rearranging the goddamn hero shrine his nerdass boyfriend is cultivating, and moving the merch all over their apartment like it’s a weird, mildly creepy––considering many of the figurines are of their friends and co-workers––scavenger hunt. 

It’s even funny. There’s an Uravity on the weighing scales in the bathroom, a couple of Red Riots stuffed into Deku’s shoes and slippers, a Creati in the pantry, a Froppy in each sink in the apartment, a Shouto with its left foot on the top of the oven and its right foot on the freezer door for irony, a Chargebolt behind the couch with one pointed finger stuck into a power socket, Alien Queens on the soap bottles, an Ingenium glued to every blade of the ceiling fan, and Cellophanes stretching tape across the door frames so Deku will hopefully walk into one and get himself stuck. There’s a few Earphone Jacks perched on the speakers currently blasting rock, rattling a little with the sheer volume at which Katsuki has his music. That’s not even counting the numerous other figurines Katsuki’s hidden on the higher shelves, where Deku can’t reach them (and Katsuki had to climb on a chair to put them there, but that’s not the point). 

Katsuki is fucking hilarious.

(And if maybe Katsuki’s left his own merchandise untouched––if moved to the Positions Of Honour, as Deku calls them, like a nerd––well, that’s just the way it should be.)

Deku’s going to be so mad.

Katsuki has about ten minutes or so before Deku returns, so he kills time by flipping through one of Deku’s notebooks, abandoned on the dining table. One page catches his attention: a section about one of the newbies at the agency Deku’s attached to at the moment, some recent Shiketsu graduate going by Phaser with a quirk that allows her to change the state of her body from solid to liquid or gas and vice versa. It’s pretty interesting stuff; in true Deku fashion, he’s made notes of all the potential drawbacks of Phaser’s quirk and the unorthodox ways in which she might be able to stretch her quirk to its limits.

He’s just gotten to the part Deku’s titled “Trojan Horse” (something about Phaser turning gaseous and compressing into a small container––a water bottle, for example––and being smuggled into restricted areas that way), when the lock clicks, jamming as it always does, and then Deku grunts, pushing the door open. Katsuki hurriedly turns the music down and arranges himself on the sofa, feigning nonchalance as he flips a magazine open. Deku clatters around the entryway before closing the door.

“I’m back!”

“Welcome back.”

Keys jingle as Deku stows them on his hook by the door. Katsuki knows his boyfriend’s routine by heart: Deku’s going to take off his shoes––right first, stepping on the heel like a loser instead of doing the responsible thing and unlacing them––before shucking his coat and inevitably bashing his hands against at least one wall in the process. Then, once he’s done whining about it like a six-foot-three man child, he’ll ruffle his hair, making his mop even messier for some goddamn reason, and then he’ll shove his feet into his house slippers without looking––

“Ow!”

Katsuki grins. Right on time.

“What’s the matter, Deku?” he calls innocently. “Got a rock in your shoe?”

There’s a pause, a crinkling of cloth as Deku no doubt sets the grocery bags on the floor to inspect his slipper. “Kacchan?” Deku says, a hint of amusement in his voice. Katsuki frowns. This wasn’t meant to be funny to Deku. “Why is Eiji-kun in my slipper?”

“Ask the guy himself, Deku; I’m not the boss of fuckin’ Radio Rebel.”

Deku giggles, heading into the apartment with one slipper held aloft like he’s actually talking to Eijirou. “Why were you in my slipper, Mr. Red Riot? Did a certain someone put you up toACK WHAT THE–– blegh, Kacchan!”

“You’re noisier than usual today, what’s the matter with you?” Katsuki says, flipping a page of his magazine without really looking at it. Deku shuffles into the living room. Katsuki looks up at him and immediately has to look away to keep from laughing. It’s a pretty impressive feat, in Katsuki’s opinion. Deku has tape stuck across his face, taping his right eyelid down and squishing his nose. There’s tape in his hair, too, plastering it to his forehead. It’s hilarious.

“April Fool’s is still almost a month away, Kacchan,” Deku pouts. The effect of it is made more ridiculous by the face he’s still making as a consequence of the tape all over him.

“Being an idiot is a year-round event for most of the jackass brigade.”

Deku lets out a laugh like it’s been punched out of him. Katsuki grins, too, before realising that his plan is going swiftly into the trash. Damnit. 

“So what’s the deal with all this, uh… um… Kacchan, you… your magazine is upside down.”

“No it’s not!” Katsuki snaps automatically, before realising it is upside down. “Shut up, dumbass!” 

Deku dodges the magazine as it flies towards his face, and it flutters pathetically onto the floor with the discarded tape. They both stare at it, Katsuki contemplating his next move, Deku no doubt thinking about how much he loves his Kacchan. Or maybe wondering why his Kacchan is acting so weird. 

“Fuck!” Katsuki yells, and stands suddenly, startling Deku. “You’re not even, I dunno, a little bit angry?”

Deku tilts his head, smiling in mild confusion like the adorably dense idiot he is. Katsuki grabs his stupid face and kisses him, chasing him as he giggles and squirms away. “Why would I be angry, Kacchan? This is really funny.” Katsuki preens––of course it’s funny, it was Katsuki’s idea, after all––before remembering himself. “The Red Riot in my slipper wasn’t immediately, but that was mostly because it kinda hurt. Plus, I wasn’t expecting it, y’know?” He laughs again to himself, smoothing Katsuki’s hair down before kissing the top of his head––because that’s a thing Deku can do now, apparently, after his stupid growth spurt that Katsuki isn’t jealous of at all––and wandering into the hallway that leads to their shared bedroom. 

Katsuki stands there in the living room, his hair un-smoothing itself as he listens to his dumbass boyfriend finding the figurines and laughing about Katsuki’s impeccable sense of humour. He probably has a stupid love-struck grin on his face too, if Katsuki knows anything about Deku, and Katsuki knows everything about Deku.

Except what he’s like when he’s angry, apparently.

Fuck.

Plan A was a bust, but that’s fine, it’s just that Katsuki was too good of a boyfriend. It’s not a failure, even though Deku was in a stupidly good mood all evening because not only had Katsuki prepared an entertaining scavenger hunt for him when he’d come back with groceries, Katsuki had also accidentally done Deku’s share of cleaning in the process. 

Katsuki is just too good of a boyfriend.

Anyway. 

Plan B goes like this: 

The next day, the first proper day of their shared week off, Katsuki wakes himself up at ass o’clock, also known as three-fucking-thirty in the goddamn AM, and stomps to the kitchen to make as much noise as humanly possible. 

He’s intentionally making more noise than he normally would, clanging pots and pans around as he rummages through the cupboards looking for nothing in particular. Silently, he’s sending thanks to god or who-fucking-ever that the walls are thick and that they wouldn’t be getting noise complaints again. The only noise complaints he wants at this time are from Deku.

Deku always gets grumpy in the mornings. He’s far from a morning person; he wasn’t anywhere near being a morning person even when they were in U.A. and Katsuki would drag Deku out at 5 AM to run laps around the campus before school started. If anything, he’s gotten worse since then; having irregular patrol hours, while a typical occupational hazard for pro heroes, isn’t exactly conducive to having a normal––let alone healthy––sleeping schedule. Katsuki’s not necessarily a morning person either, but he makes it work, mostly out of spite. 

He’s somehow ended up organising all the pots and pans in the cupboard in his aimless clattering and is now seriously contemplating doing the laundry when the bedroom door slams open. Deku hobbles out, hair sticking up in every direction. He’s got marks all over him from where the sheets have been pressed against his skin, and there’s a bit of dried drool at the corner of his mouth. It’s kind of gross. 

Katsuki wants to kiss him.

“Kacchan, what the hell,” Deku slurs, looking around, and Katsuki snaps out of his daze to clang two pots together, as though to punctuate Deku’s question. Deku cringes away from the noise. “Why are you– Kacchan.” He’s just spotted the clock. “For fuck’s sake, it’s not even four in the morning, Kacchan. What are you doing.”

Katsuki, in a very impressive display of acting prowess, looks his gross, sleepy, disgruntled boyfriend dead in the eye and says, “Am I not allowed to clean in my own house, Deku?”

Deku glares back at him with a bleary, long-suffering look, which Katsuki thinks is very bold of him seeing as Katsuki isn’t the one stretching his boyfriend’s sleep shirt to oblivion. “But why now and not, you know, after the sun’s risen?”

“No time like the present,” Katsuki deadpans. “Are you mad?”

“Wha– no, Kacchan, I’m not mad, but––”

Katsuki doesn’t hear the rest, too busy cursing his boyfriend’s apparently saint-like tolerance for bullshit. He sneaks a glance at Deku, tuning in briefly to his mumbling about how “Kacchan’s always so organised, I wouldn’t even have thought to organise the pans but did it have to be so early in the morning?” Katsuki preens under his boyfriend’s praise before snapping back to his mission with a scowl. This was not going according to plan.

He grits his teeth. If Deku’s going to be insufferable, fine. Katsuki can be the best at being insufferable too.

Back in U.A., Katsuki’s therapist (“recommended” by Eraserhead, in that Katsuki––among others, at least according to hearsay––had been commanded, under threat of expulsion, to go to therapy) had told him that the best way to get what he wants is sometimes to just ask for it, and perhaps offer incentive if needed.

So. Plan C goes like this:

Katsuki throws his head back as he moans, sinking down on Deku’s full cock. Deku’s tied to the bed––a formality; they both know he could break free in a heartbeat if he wanted––with a gag over his dumbass mouth so he can’t do anything stupid like moan “Plus Ultra”.

(Katsuki, unfortunately, speaks from experience. It had been one rare occasion when Deku felt like bottoming, and as Katsuki’s cockhead had slipped past Deku’s trembling entrance, Deku had pulled him close and moaned, all breathy and desperate, “Plus Ultra, Kacchan.”

It had taken a full hour after that to return Katsuki to anywhere near arousal, and another week to convince Katsuki to be open to the idea of topping again. Deku’s still sort of in the doghouse in that respect, actually.)

Deku’s staring up at Katsuki with barely-disguised adoration. It makes Katsuki want to kiss him, hold him, spill sweet, embarrassing confessions to him until the sun rises––but Katsuki has a mission, goddamnit. Katsuki closes his eyes, clenching down on Deku’s cock and listening to his shattered gasp. And then, biting down on his lip, Katsuki begins to fuck himself on the hard, twitching cock inside him, clenching as hard as he can the whole time and utterly refusing to make any noise louder than Deku’s strangled, frustrated groans.

Deku makes a noise that sounds like Kacchan, sounds like he’s trying to take a dominant tone but Katsuki’s using his dick like it’s just a dildo, and if Katsuki knows anything about Deku, which he does, Deku is getting off to this so much. But Katsuki is going to get results, damnit. 

“What’s the matter, Daddy?” he taunts, bouncing on Deku’s lap like it’s a race to get him to come (and it is, but Deku doesn’t know it yet). Deku’s breath catches, his eyes widening, pupils blowing out and liquefying into dark pools of desire. Katsuki smirks. “Are you getting desperate for your Kacchan?”

“Yes,” Deku tries to say through the gag.

“You– ugh, fuck, you gonna come for me, Daddy?”

A nod.

“Too fuckin’ bad,” Katsuki grins, and stops. 

Deku blinks up at him, hips jerking uselessly as he tries to meet Katsuki’s stilled thrusts. 

“Y’know,” Katsuki muses, grinding down onto Deku’s cock and grinning wider still when it twitches inside him, “I think it’d be kind of hot if you were… more aggressive.”

Nothing but confusion registers in Deku’s eyes. There’s a bit of indignation, like Deku’s wondering why Katsuki has stopped fucking him to do... whatever this is. Katsuki sighs. 

“C’mon, Deku, don’t you wanna just let loose a little sometimes? Get all the tension out of your system?”

Deku stares at him for a moment, then nods hesitantly, uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. This isn’t quite the outcome Katsuki was hoping for, but he’s nothing if not resourceful.

“Well, come on then, Daddy,” Katsuki growls, sitting back on Deku’s cock and grinning when it twitches in renewed interest. “Fuck me.”

Deku’s eyes widen and he tenses, snaps the ropes binding him to the bed. Surging up, he grabs Katsuki’s wrists in one unreasonably large hand, pinning Katsuki’s arms above his head and ripping the gag off his mouth with the other. “Shit,” Deku breathes. Katsuki vaguely wonders if he should regret letting Deku have speaking rights. “Look at you, Kacchan, riling me up like this.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I told you to fuck me, Daddy, didn’t– ah!” Deku wraps his free hand around Katsuki’s hip and starts fucking into him, hard, punching gasps and moans out of him with every thrust.

“If you wanted me to be rough with you, all you had to do was ask.”

“Sh– hah, fuck– shut up, Deku,” Katsuki pants. Deku obliges, thankfully, and kisses him hard, which has the added benefit of muffling Katsuki’s own noises. At some point, he’s wrapped his legs around Deku’s waist, trying to rut back against Deku’s cock, trying to meet his thrusts, but Deku’s got too strong a grip on his wrists––

Deku moves a little, changing his angle, and something warm begins to build in the pit of Katsuki’s stomach. “Oh– oh, fuck, De– Daddy, right there, right there!” Katsuki whimpers, thrashing in Deku’s grip, and then, just as Katsuki’s about to come hard, Deku shoves inside one last time and stills. 

Katsuki opens eyes blurry with unshed tears and glares up at Deku. “What the hell,” he spits, and when Deku grins, it sends a strange shiver up Katsuki’s spine.

“Payback’s a bitch, Kacchan,” Deku says, his voice lilting in an annoying sing-song tone. Katsuki snarls, straining against Deku’s grip, but to his everlasting chagrin, Deku doesn’t budge even a millimetre. 

(And yeah, maybe it’s a little bit hot.)

“Fucking––” Katsuki groans, trying in vain to roll his hips down onto Deku’s cock. In retaliation, Deku moves back, pulling out almost completely, and Katsuki lets out the most horrific whimper. His entire face no doubt flushed a stupid shade of red, Katsuki growls, “Fuck me right now, Deku, or you don’t get to fuck me at all this whole week.”

Instead of balking like Katsuki expects, Deku fucking smirks. When did Deku learn to smirk? “It doesn’t look to me like you’re in any position to make demands, baby,” he murmurs, nipping at Katsuki’s lower lip. “Besides,” he says, and pulls back. Katsuki chases Deku’s lips automatically before freezing. Embarrassment floods his chest as Deku grins down at him, returning his hand to its position around Katsuki’s wrists and wrapping the other around his flushed, weeping dick. Katsuki arches off the bed, bucking his hips up into Deku’s deliberately loose grip. “I don’t think you want me to stop, either.”

“Fuck you,” Katsuki gasps. In the back of his mind, he wonders how this had backfired on him so badly.

Deku rolls his hips into Katsuki’s, sending a wave of pleasure straight to his dick. “Why don’t you ask again,” he says, and Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. “Nicely, this time. Then we’ll see.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Katsuki groans.

“I’d be perfectly happy with “Daddy”, y’know,” Deku grins. Katsuki wishes he’d never let Deku take off the gag.

“Fuck off––”

Deku arches an eyebrow. “If that’s what Kacchan wants,” he says, and begins to drag his cock out of Katsuki.

Katsuki yelps, tensing his legs where they’re wrapped around Deku’s waist. “Don’t you dare––”

“You know what I want, baby.”

Katsuki glares up at Deku, who smiles innocently back at him. His hand tightens around Katsuki’s wrists, the hand on his dick rubbing a lightning-hot path over the head. “Fucking– please, fuck me already!”

Deku has the audacity to click his tongue, leaning down to bite at Katsuki’s neck. “Try again, baby, or I’ll stuff your pretty mouth full of cock.”

An increasingly incoherent string of thoughts flashes through Katsuki’s brain. What goddamn part of this is Deku being aggressive, for fuck’s sake; all I fucking wanted was for Deku to be rougher in bed, not whatever the fuck he thinks this is; why won’t Deku just fuck me already, come on come on come on I was so fucking close come on––

What he does instead is sink his teeth into his bottom lip and look up at Deku through his eyelashes, internally preening at the twitch Deku’s cock gives in response, and breathes, “Fuck me, Daddy, hard. Please– please make me come.”

Deku flushes a very appealing shade of red and curses under his breath, flipping Katsuki over so he’s face down ass up, Deku’s cock still inside him. He wraps his hands around Katsuki’s hips, and Katsuki lets out an awful little moan at the feeling of Deku’s stupidly big hands wrapped completely around his waist. Katsuki has less than a second to fist his hands in the sheets to brace himself before Deku’s pounding into him, using the leverage of his hands around Katsuki’s tiny waist to slam him bodily all the way onto his cock. Moans spill freely from Katsuki’s lips now, no hope of containing his gasping, choked noises as he gets fucked within an inch of his life. Deku snaps his teeth teasingly at the nape of Katsuki’s neck, pounding his prostate with lethal accuracy. 

“How’s that feel, h-huh, Kacchan,” Deku pants, his breath hot against Katsuki’s ear. Katsuki whines, blindly throwing a punch over his shoulder in Deku’s general direction. Deku chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down Katsuki’s spine. “Brat.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Katsuki chants, burying his face in the sheets and biting down in an attempt to stop the embarrassing noises leaving his mouth as Deku fucks him ruthlessly. Then Deku’s yanking him up with a fist in his hair, and the new angle is somehow even better, and Katsuki fucking sobs, clenching down desperately on Deku’s cock. 

“O-oh,” Deku whispers, and reaches around to frantically jerk Katsuki’s weeping dick. Katsuki gasps, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tenses up before coming hard into the tangled sheets, and Deku follows not long after with a moan, hips stuttering as he sinks his teeth into a spot on Katsuki’s muscled shoulder.

They’re still for a few moments, catching their breaths, until Deku begins to sag and Katsuki yelps, turning to bat him away. “The sheets, Deku! The sheets are all sticky and gross, I’m not fucking sleeping in this.”

Deku grunts, his face smushed into Katsuki’s shoulder. “‘m on it,” he mumbles, and then heaves himself up, easing out of Katsuki’s ass slowly. Katsuki winces at the slow drag of friction against his hyper-sensitive walls, but when he turns to snap at Deku to get on with it, Deku’s staring at his rim, transfixed. “You’re all puffy and wet,” Deku breathes, a note of awe in his voice. 

Katsuki flushes. “Wet– that’s fucking lube, jackass!”

“Yes, Kacchan,” Deku says, clearly not listening, and Katsuki kicks at him half-heartedly. Deku catches his ankle with ease and pins it back to the bed, making Katsuki’s dick stir traitorously.

“Stop being gross and get the sheets off the bed,” Katsuki grumbles, shaking his leg free of Deku’s grip. 

Deku rolls his eyes, smiling, and lets Katsuki up before stripping the sheets and heading off to shove them into the laundry machine. Katsuki stares after him, watching Deku’s ass until it’s out of sight before standing up and sighing. 

That wasn’t quite what Katsuki had been looking for.

(It was hot, though. It definitely was hot.)

Plan D is a phenomenal failure.

Katsuki had planned to stop doing his share of the chores in hopes of drawing out Deku’s pettiness, which he would then rile up more and more until Deku exploded. 

Somehow, though, Katsuki had accidentally done his share of the cleaning anyway while working off the nervous energy in plan A, and he’d done a terrifying amount of meal-prep after Deku had gone back to sleep at four o’clock after plan B, so his share of chores for the week are… pretty much done. 

He’s staring sullenly at their little chore allocation chart, a dry-erase marker board that hangs on the fridge door, as he tries valiantly to tune out the god-awful sounds of Deku ‘singing’ along to a song that’s been popular recently as he washes the dishes. All of Katsuki’s chores have a neat little circle next to them, indicating that they’ve been completed. Fine.

“Deku,” he calls, raising his voice above the cacophony of Deku wailing cheesy love song lyrics. “I’m going over to Dial-Up’s place for a bit.”

“Say hi to him for me! Oh, and when you’re coming back, could you buy some rice from the supermarket?”

Katsuki pauses. Plan E has fallen straight into his lap. He grins to himself, then makes a noncommittal noise that Deku will no doubt take as acknowledgement, before shoving his feet in his shoes and grabbing a set of keys off the hook by the door. “Be back soon.”

“I love you, Kacchan! Get back safely!”

“I’m fuckin’ Dynamight, Deku, obviously I’ll get back safely,” Katsuki grumbles, but he’s smiling. “I love you too, dumbass.”

“Hey, Deku!” Ochako chirps over the phone, sounding a little out of breath. Izuku casts a glance over to the clock. She should just be finishing her workout with Eijirou and Tetsutetsu. Sure enough, he can hear the two men’s raucous laughter, almost out of earshot of the phone. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, Ochako,” Izuku grins, then remembers what he’s calling about. “Uh, so– Kacchan’s acting weird.”

Ochako snorts. “Weirder than usual?”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Deku, “normal” for that guy is weird for everyone else.”

Izuku pouts. “That’s not true.”

“Well?” Ochako says, and the background noise dies down as she presumably heads to the locker rooms. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“I think– I think he’s got, I don’t know, like a bet or something going on?” Izuku replies, grabbing a rag and wiping the hob down. “Or– oh! Wait, do you know anything about this?”

“I don’t think so?” Ochako says, her voice echoing a little in the locker room. 

“He’s been acting really weird, Ochako,” Izuku continues. “I don’t know what it is, but I don’t hate it? He pulled a prank two days ago after my shift. He put all my figurines in really funny places, like he put you on the weighing scale and Tenya on the ceiling fan, and he stuck tape across the doorways and attached the tape to Hanta-kun so when I walked through a door I got caught, it was honestly really cute but I don’t know why he did it? I always thought he’d call me a dumbass if I tried doing something like that, I know he wouldn’t mean it but he’d definitely make fun of me for it. And then yesterday, he woke me up at three in the morning because he was arranging the kitchen cupboards. What’s up with that? It’s like, he’s acting really weird, y’know?”

Ochako hums noncommittally. On her end of the line, a tap starts running. 

“He also asked me to be more aggressive in bed,” he says, and Ochako chokes. “He– wait, Ochako? Are you okay?”

“Deku!” Ochako hisses, scandalised. “I’m in public! What if someone had heard?”

“Oh. Did anyone hear?”

“Well, no, but that’s––”

“Then it’s fine, right?”

A pause. Izuku can practically see a vein in Ochako’s temple pulsing. “Sure,” she says, finally.

“I wonder if he’s trying to rile me up sexually,” Izuku muses. “That’s got to be it! He’s been trying to get me to give it to him harder than usual, too. Maybe I should look this up, do some research. I’ve heard there’s all sorts of websites for this stuff.”

“If that’s what he’s doing, I’d like him to tell his boyfriend not to talk to me about his goddamn sex life,” Ochako grumbles in return.

Izuku taps the side of his phone with the hand not occupied with cleaning the oven. “Should I look into getting some kinky sex gear?” 

Ochako splutters. “Oh my god, Deku, if Katsuki finds out you’ve been telling me about this and somehow doesn’t kill you for it, I’ll do us both a favour and murder you myself.”

He smiles, not listening to her in the slightest. “I’ve got some time before Kacchan gets back,” he decides. “It was great talking to you, Ochako!”

“You too, Deku. Please never tell me about your sex life again.”

“I will!” Izuku says cheerfully, and hangs up before opening a private browser window. He’s going to knock Kacchan’s socks off.

“No way,” says Denki, for the eighth time in ten minutes. Katsuki’s urge to kill grows ever stronger. “You don’t know what Deku’s like when he’s angry? You? Seriously? You’re not fucking with me or anything, right? This is for real?” Denki pulls a truly disgusting face, looking like he’s trying to imitate Katsuki but has somehow never laid eyes on him before, lowering his voice and rasping, “Oi, Shitty Deku, I’ve known you since we were brats but you’ve––” He cuts himself off, noticing the murder in Katsuki’s eyes, and wisely abandons that sorry excuse for an impression. “Anyway,” he gulps, “I’m sure he just rarely gets angry. You could, uh… ask his mom?”

“Not fucking happening, Dunce Face.”

“It’s been a while since I heard that nickname,” Denki mumbles. Katsuki’s eyes narrow. “Uh– you, uh, you mentioned a plan E, right?”

Katsuki grunts. “He asked me to get rice on the way back from your shitty place, so I’m not going to do that.”

Denki stares at him. “That… that’s it?”

“What the fuck do you want from me, shitface,” Katsuki snaps defensively. “You were the one who brought up this dumbass topic in the first place, so fucking think of something better if you’re so goddamn smart.”

“Uh,” Denki says, and then frowns like he’s run out of things to say. Katsuki scoffs.

“That’s what I thought, jackass.”

“Have you, like…” Denki begins, looking very concerned, “asked him? What he’s like when he’s angry?”

“Did you forget how fuckin’ far that got you when you tried asking? I don’t do useless shit, unlike a certain dumb blonde I know.”

Denki’s gaze flickers briefly to Katsuki’s own ash-blonde hair. “But he’ll tell his Kacchan, even if he kind of brushed me off. There’s a whole lifetime of difference in how long we’ve known each other, after all. Plus, he has to keep the whole “Symbol of Peace” image up, right?”

Katsuki scowls. “I fuckin’ guess.”

“Ask him when you get home, then!”

“Whatever.”

Katsuki returns to a silent apartment. 

“Deku?” he calls, hanging up his keys and peering through the darkness of the flat. The light on the balcony turns on suddenly, and Katsuki is instantly on alert. What the fuck is happening, he thinks, making sure his hands are free, and then a hand settles around his neck. Katsuki whirls around, palms sparking––

“Hello, Kacchan. Been a bad boy recently?”

Katsuki’s breath catches in his chest. “Wh– what the fuck are you playing at––”

Deku towers over him, one hand tipping his head back with a fist in his hair, the other splayed possessively over his throat. “I know what’s been going on, baby.”

“You––” Katsuki swallows, his heartbeat suddenly racing. Heat rushes to his face. Who is this, and what has he done with Deku? “You do?”

“You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you, being so fucking naughty,” Deku purrs, and Katsuki shivers, eyes wide. “You wanted to be punished so badly, didn’t you?”

Now:

Katsuki has no fucking clue what’s happening. He’s staring up at his boyfriend’s normally soft eyes and seeing burning intensity, the way Deku’s eyes rake down his body hungrily, feeling the firmness of Deku’s hands on him. It’s so far from Deku’s usual image, all million-watt smiles and loving, soft eyes trained unwaveringly on Katsuki. 

Deku growls, squeezing Katsuki’s neck ever so slightly. Katsuki tenses, hands coming up instinctively to spark off in warning, but Deku’s gaze hardens, and he lowers his hands slowly, swallowing hard. 

Katsuki’s never been more turned on in his life.

“I asked a question, baby.”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki growls, mostly out of habit. Deku’s eyes narrow.

“Wrong answer.”

“What the hell are y––” Katsuki begins, but then Deku’s clamping a hand over Katsuki’s mouth and leaning in close, his mint breath washing over Katsuki’s ear, the sensitive nape of his neck.

“Daddy’s going to do filthy things to you, baby,” Deku says, but when he pulls back, his eyes are softer, searching Katsuki’s own. Even without hearing it, Katsuki knows what Deku is asking. Do you want this?

And, well. It isn’t as if Katsuki’s not painfully hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans. His breath is heaving heavy and hot, ears on fire. He looks away from Deku to gather himself, to try and steady his breathing, but he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the doorway, and fuck. 

Katsuki looks wrecked already. There’s a heady flush spread across his cheekbones, his hair sticking up even more than usual at the back where Deku’s hand is still buried, his grip not as tight. He looks dazed, disheveled. That realisation only makes him flush darker, glaring at his reflection. Pull it the fuck together, Bakugou.  

“Kacchan?” Deku’s looking at him through the mirror, the dominance slipping slightly to reveal familiar uncertainty, a look of concern crossing his stupid, adorable face. Ages ago, in what might as well be another life, Katsuki would have blown up at Deku for being concerned for him, of all people. Now, it grounds him.

He nods, finally looking back at Deku, fixing him dead in the eyes. “Fuck yeah,” he breathes. His voice cracks, and Deku inhales sharply. “Yeah, De– Daddy. I–I want you.”

It’s like a switch flips.

The uncertainty disappears in an instant, replaced by a single-minded focus Katsuki’s only ever seen before in battle––but it’s different, more smouldering heat and deep, lustful hunger. “Are you going to be good for me?” Deku rumbles, his voice low and husky. A shiver rolls through Katsuki.

“You gonna make me, Daddy?”

Deku’s eyes sharpen, and then Katsuki’s being lifted into the air and slammed into the wall with Deku’s hands on his waist, so quickly that Katsuki finds himself instinctively looking for his distinctive green lightning. “You should learn how to ask nicely, you brat,” Deku murmurs, millimetres from Katsuki’s lips. 

A thick, muscled thigh shoves between Katsuki’s own, holding his weight effortlessly. Deku grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs his head back, exposing his neck before Deku leans in, pressing his hot mouth to Katsuki’s pulse point and sucking hard. Katsuki groans, wrapping his legs around Deku’s waist and burying his own hands in Deku’s hair. 

“F–Fuck,” Katsuki gasps when he shifts, and Deku’s clothed boner presses against his ass. “What’s– hah, what’s gotten into you– ah!”

“I told you I was going to punish you, didn’t I,” Deku says mildly, as if he isn’t toying with Katsuki’s nipples. “This is more of a reward than anything, though, isn’t it?”

“You’re f–fucking teasing me, Daddy,” Katsuki snarks, though the effect of it is undoubtedly ruined by him bucking his hips into the too-light touch of Deku’s hand on his dick. “I don’t see, hah, how that’s a fucking reward.”

“Well, if you’d stop being such a little brat,” Deku says, undoing Katsuki’s pants and wrapping a warm hand around him, “then maybe Daddy could make you feel good.”

“I’ll believe it when– shit– when I see it,” Katsuki gasps.

Deku chuckles. Then, without warning, Deku sets him down, catching him by the elbow with a stupidly smug smirk when Katsuki’s knees buckle. “Can you get to the bedroom, baby?” he teases. Katsuki would punch him if he wasn’t so fucking aroused right now. “Or should I carry you there?”

Katsuki glares back at his dumb, smug, beautiful boyfriend and makes a show of brushing himself down, toeing off his shoes before taking off into the apartment, towards their bedroom. He hears Deku’s stupid laugh just as he reaches the bedroom, flinging the door open––

And freezes. Laid out on the bed are harnesses, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, lube, and worst of all, what looks like rose petals. Katsuki’s still staring at them, slack-jawed, when Deku comes up behind him. 

“Well?” 

Deku, for some reason, looks uncannily like an excited puppy, irritatingly pleased with himself even though his face remains impassive. Katsuki, though, can practically see a phantom tail wagging behind his idiot of a boyfriend, and worse, he can feel a blush creeping across his own stupid face. “I– I said yes earlier, didn’t I?”

“Tell me– or like, blow me up or something if I do something you don’t like,” Deku says, his dumbass voice low and tender.

Katsuki scoffs. “You don’t need to tell me, idiot.” I love you, he says with his eyes.

Deku’s eyes go watery, like the over-emotional crybaby he is. “I love you too, Kacchan.” He turns to the bed, grabbing a blindfold and holding it out to Katsuki, who looks at it for a second before climbing into Deku’s obnoxiously sculpted lap. Deku kisses him softly before pulling away to fasten the blindfold in place. Katsuki closes his eyes as Deku picks him up––he hears fabric and metal shifting and falling to the floor––and places him gently on the bed.

Sightless, Katsuki lets himself be moved around as Deku strips him. 

(Distantly, he wonders how long it’ll take until Deku’s inevitable sobfest at how much Katsuki’s grown to trust him, enough to give up his sight.)

“You’ve been a naughty little brat, Kacchan,” Deku says, from somewhere to Katsuki’s right. “So I’m going to punish you, and then I’m going to use that pretty hole of yours until I’m satisfied. How does that sound, baby?”

Katsuki swallows, feeling a little lightheaded from the rush of blood to his dick. “Yeah,” he says, hoarsely. “P–Please. I want you to use me, Daddy.”

Leather closes over his ankles before they’re being spread apart, and Katsuki hears the quiet sounds of rope shifting over itself. Soon, his wrists are being cuffed together with the same leather bindings, his arms tugged over his head and secured to the headboard. The mattress lifts as Deku gets off it, and then nothing. 

“I think I like the way you get so desperate when I edge you,” Deku murmurs, right by his ear, and Katsuki startles. Deku’s hand settles on his straining cock, and it jerks in his hand. “You’re in for a long night, baby.”

Katsuki thinks he gets harder, and that’s something he never knew about himself. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Deku’s mouth is on his, swallowing the pitiful, broken gasp he makes. Deku’s hand starts jacking him off, and Katsuki melts, whimpering into Deku’s lips. It feels good, his sensitivity heightened by his lack of sight, and before long, Katsuki’s moaning into the kiss, squirming in the cuffs as heat builds in his stomach––

And then Deku’s gone, leaving Katsuki feeling suddenly cold. He makes a pathetic noise, something high-pitched and disgusting, and feels Deku’s hand brush through his hair. “I said I was going to edge you, didn’t I?” Deku says, his disembodied voice hovering above Katsuki. “You look so pretty like this for me, Kacchan. You’re beautiful,” he continues, and a finger trails up Katsuki’s dick. Katsuki gasps, hips bucking up in search of friction, and Deku chuckles, a low, rumbling noise so different from how he usually sounds that it sends more arousal straight to Katsuki’s lower half. “Your pretty cock, so desperate to come... you’re leaking so much, baby.” The finger on Katsuki’s dick swipes at the head, and he hears the sound of Deku sucking on it. “You always taste so good, so sweet.”

Katsuki groans, ignoring the way his face is heating up. Maybe Deku can’t see it under the blindfold. “You’re so fucking embarrassing,” he says, trying to kick out with his right foot, but the rope pulls taut, rendering his effort useless.

Deku laughs again. “Maybe I should give you something to occupy that filthy mouth of yours, brat,” Deku says, and grabs Katsuki’s chin, holding it open. Before he can curse him out again, Deku’s pushing his cock between Katsuki’s lips slowly, careful not to choke him. Katsuki, ever the perfectionist, squeezes his left thumb in his fist and pushes his head forward, feeling the head of Deku’s cock brush the back of his throat. Deku groans, burying his hand in Katsuki’s hair again. “Good boy,” he says, like a warning, and begins fucking Katsuki’s mouth. 

Katsuki doesn’t think he’s ever been harder than he is now, lying bound and blindfolded on his bed with his boyfriend’s cock down his throat. He can feel the precum dripping from his own dick and pooling on his abdomen as he focuses on suppressing his gag reflex, a warm little feeling blooming in his chest as Deku whispers unintelligible strings of words that sound like praise. Deku pulls him off and he gasps, filling his lungs before Deku’s kissing him again, hot and rough and desperate. Katsuki whines, bucking his hips, and Deku obliges, gathering Katsuki’s precum and spreading it on his cock to slick the way as he pumps it, bringing Katsuki to the brink of orgasm embarrassingly quickly. 

“Are you close?” Deku asks, his voice rough with arousal. Katsuki nods frantically. “Too bad,” Deku snarls, and then Katsuki’s keening, thrusting desperately into nothing as his orgasm slips away. 

“Fuck––” he manages, and his voice sounds wrecked, all raspy and hoarse. “Fuck you.”

Deku hums. “I don’t know if you should be talking to me like that, baby, not if you want to come tonight.”

“Bite me,” Katsuki snaps.

There’s a pause. “Okay, Kacchan,” Deku says, finally. “Have it your way.”

What feels like hours later, Katsuki’s lost count of how many times he’s been stimulated to the point of almost-orgasm before Deku clicks his tongue and retreats. He’s crying from the overstimulation, the blindfold soaked with his tears. Deku, meanwhile, has three long, devastating fingers in his ass, ruthlessly working his prostate, and his unmoving mouth on Katsuki’s dick.

“Please,” Katsuki grits out, and if he was in his right mind he’d be horrified at how he sounds, straight out of a porno. “Please just– fuh, fuuucking let me come, please––”

Deku slides off his cock with an obscene pop, thrusting his fingers against Katsuki’s prostate and chuckling when Katsuki wails, jerking and tensing up around Deku’s fingers. “You’re so cute, Kacchan,” he says, somehow managing to sound both reverent and teasing at the same time. “You want to come that badly?”

“Yes,” Katsuki responds immediately, all shame forgotten. “Please, Daddy– fuh, fuck– I need to come so fucking badly!”

“Then come,” Deku says, and swallows Katsuki’s cock all the way to the base, bobbing his head at the same pace his fingers thrust into Katsuki’s ass. It only takes three strokes before Katsuki’s coming, finally, harder than he’s ever come in his entire life. His mouth is open but he’s too overwhelmed to make any noise, trembling through an orgasm that leaves him gasping, chest heaving. 

“Holy shit,” Katsuki says, when he’s got his brain back. 

“You’re doing so well for me,” Deku coos, dragging his fingers out of Katsuki’s hole ever so slightly before thrusting them back again. Katsuki arches off the bed like he’s been struck by lightning, thrashing against his restraints. “Do you think you can take any more, baby?”

Katsuki’s head spins, fuzzy around the edges but god it felt so fucking good––

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, hiccuping a little. “Yeah, I– I can take it.”

“That’s my good boy,” Deku says, something warm like pride in his voice, and the mattress sinks as he kneels between Katsuki’s legs, the fingers inside him shifting as he goes. Katsuki whimpers, legs instinctively pulling together before they’re pinned flat to the sheets. “None of that,” Deku says sternly, sending another wave of arousal down Katsuki’s spine. “Keep those pretty legs open for me, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Katsuki breathes, and he’s just about put together enough to revel in the little moan Deku makes as he pulls his fingers out of Katsuki’s hole. 

“Can I untie you,” Deku asks, a hint of desperation lacing his voice. It sends a thrill through Katsuki, the way Deku sounds so fucking eager for him. 

“Yeah,” Katsuki replies, “take off my blindfold, too, I wanna see you, wanna see Daddy’s cock fucking into me––”

“Shit,” Deku gasps, and the cuffs fall away from Katsuki’s wrists and ankles. The blindfold follows, moments later, and Katsuki blinks through tears and the sudden brightness to see Deku gazing up at him with a heady mixture of awe and arousal. “I can’t hold back any more, baby, I need you––”

Katsuki surges up off the bed and seizes a handful of Deku’s hair, smashing their mouths together. It’s objectively disgusting; Katsuki’s face is soaked with still-flowing tears and there’s too much teeth, but neither of them care when Katsuki tugs Deku away from his face to glare at him blearily. “You’d fucking better,” he says, and then Deku’s pinning him back into the mattress, lining his cock up with Katsuki’s slick entrance and burying himself all the way inside. Katsuki slams his hand over his mouth to muffle the broken cry that punches out of him before Deku grabs it, lacing their fingers together and leaning down to kiss him, licking hot into his mouth and biting at his bottom lip. 

“God, fuck, ’m not gonna last,” Katsuki sobs.

“Me neither,” Deku pants, voice strained, and sets a punishing pace, leaving frantic bite marks across Katsuki’s shoulders as Katsuki scrabbles for purchase, bracing himself against the headboard with the hand not holding Deku’s. His voice is going hoarse, his moans breaking with every thrust that hits his prostate.

“Touch––” he tries, “Deku, Daddy– touch me, ngh– f–fuck, please, I need to come!”

Deku moans, his motions growing erratic. He presses his lips to Katsuki’s frantically and reaches down to jack Katsuki’s dick once, twice before Katsuki tenses up, eyes rolling back in his head as he spills all over himself. Deku whimpers then, burying his face in Katsuki’s shoulder and coming too, pumping hot cum inside Katsuki as he twitches, chest heaving.

Deku slumps, resting his whole weight on Katsuki’s cum-splattered body, and they both cringe at the feeling of cooling cum between their bodies. 

“I love you,” Deku mumbles, his face smushed into Katsuki’s shoulder. “So much.”

Katsuki brings a hand up to pet at Deku’s mess of curls, twirling a lock of soft green hair around a finger and watching with vague amusement as it springs back into place. “I love you too, nerd.” 

They stay like that for a few minutes, their heartbeats evening out. Then, Katsuki has to ask, “Where the fuck did all that come from?”

Deku’s head whips up so fast that he almost concusses himself on Katsuki’s chin. “Huh?” he asks, stupidly. 

Katsuki stares back at him. “The… the bondage, and the fucking– the edging, the blindfolds! Where have you been for the past five fucking hours?”

“It wasn’t that long!” Deku protests. “Wait, you… haven’t you been trying to get me to do kinky stuff with you?”

“What,” Katsuki says. Post-nut clarity is not looking good for Deku.

“The– the prank? With all my hero figures? And waking me up at 3:30? And telling me to be aggressive in bed?”

Katsuki’s a (debatably) model citizen. He pays his taxes. He follows the law. He volunteers at cat shelters (well, he doesn’t yet, but that can change at any time). He’s a fucking pro hero, for god’s sake; he sacrifices his own time, safety and well-being for the sake of the people. So how, Katsuki thinks, is my boyfriend this stupid.

Katsuki jams his fingers into Deku’s sides, making him yelp and jerk away, cum making nasty sounds as they part. Katsuki follows Deku, tickling him mercilessly until he’s yelling, shrieking with laughter. “What,” Katsuki says, raising his voice over Deku’s, “the fuck, Deku. You thought I was trying to get you to be kinky?”

“Yeah?” Deku wheezes, still flinching away from Katsuki’s assaults on his ticklish areas. “Did––ah, Kacchan, stop!––did you not like it?”

Katsuki flushes red but doesn’t let up, tickling Deku harder, if anything. “That– that’s not the point!”

“Th–then––”

“I was trying to make you mad, dumbass!”

“What?” Deku says, bewildered, and catches Katsuki’s wrists. It’s a surreal experience: both of them completely naked, drying cum smeared all over their chests, as Katsuki realises that for all his worrying, there had been no chance of Deku ever clueing in to his intentions. “Why?”

“Because after fucking Dunce Face brought it up, I realised I’ve never seen you angry either!”

Deku blinks. There’s a long pause, during which Katsuki tries to ignore the feeling of dried cum on his torso, and Deku mumbles frantically under his breath. Finally, he says, “But I couldn’t ever be mad at you, Kacchan.”

Katsuki stares at him, incredulous, but there’s a stupid, soft, giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest, and a stupid, soft, giddy grin spreading across his face which he absolutely refuses to acknowledge. Instead, he grabs Deku and pulls him into a deep kiss that he hopes conveys all of his fucking emotions about that statement. When they finally break apart, Deku’s eyes are glistening. He’s always had an uncanny knack for reading Katsuki’s mind when it comes down to it. 

“I love you,” Katsuki says gruffly. “Don’t fucking cry on me, idiot.”

“I love you too!” Deku cries, throwing his arms around Katsuki’s waist, and the waterworks start.

“I said not to cry,” Katsuki grumbles, but it comes out all tender and affectionate. 

Deku sniffles. “I’m sorry,” he blubbers, “I’m just– so happy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki says, and makes sure Deku’s face is smearing tears over his thighs before allowing himself to smile down at Deku’s body, shaking with the force of his gross emotions. “Me too.”

Kaminari Denki’s phone rings––well, it doesn’t so much ring as it does explode––with the custom ringtone for a certain Bakugou Katsuki. Denki picks up, grinning. “H––”

“How would you like to be part of the new and improved plan E,” Katsuki says, without so much as a greeting. Denki doesn’t really know why he tries with formalities at this point.

“Why me?” he asks, finally. 

“There’s just something about you,” Katsuki says, vaguely, and wow does that make Denki even more curious. Years of knowing the man have taught him that the best way to get answers from Bakugou Katsuki is by going slow, though, so he takes it on the chin. 

After weighing up the pros and cons, Denki takes a deep breath and says, “Sure, why the hell not.”

There’s a pause, during which Denki can picture in terrifying detail the exact curve of the smile that Mina calls Katsuki’s Danger Smirk. 

“Perfect,” Katsuki says. “I have a feeling angry Deku will be pretty fuckin’ dangerous. It’s always the quiet ones, y’know?”

Denki makes a mental note to write his last will and testament. If Katsuki doesn’t kill him, Midoriya Izuku just might.