Flirting With Disaster [Chapter 4] NSFW

Izuku froze when Imiko smiled at him sweetly, perching on the corner of his desk and folding her hands neatly in her lap. It really was quite remarkable the way she made it look so effortless, like everything about her was just perfectly elegant without even trying. He supposed that was a good thing, though. Katsuki was much the same, after all. He didn’t like it when people saw him try, it had to look like it was all easy.

“Good morning, Midoriya!” she said brightly, even though it was already their lunch break and therefore, by definition, no longer morning. “How are you?”

Izuku eyed her warily, but smiled all the same, awkward as he knew it was.

“Fine, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m great! Bakugou and I were chatting about you the other day, you seem to spend a lot of time together!”

“Huh? N-No, not really!” he squeaked. “I m-mean, we used to be friends when we were little kids, but he hasn’t wanted to hang out with me since he got his Quirk! You have nothing to worry about!”

Imiko blinked at him, apparently surprised that he wasn’t oblivious as all hell, but she composed herself again just as quickly.

“Oh? It seems like you always walk home together and stuff!”

“We just live the same direction!” he assured her. “We don’t walk together we just walk the same way!”

“Well, that’s good to know,” she nodded, smiling warmly again.

It was too fake, too forced. Clearly she was pissed about him hanging around Katsuki – he understood, he felt the same about her, after all – but he couldn't say he was trying to back off, that he was trying to remove himself from Katsuki’s life to let him be the best he could possibly be. It would sound ridiculous if he said that out loud.

Instead, he just smiled back.

“Hey, I have a quick question for you, do you mind?”

“Sure,” he answered, his jaw tightening as the anxiety began to swirl in his stomach. “Go ahead.”

“Do you, like, get mugged a lot?” she asked, tilting her head slightly like a confused puppy. “I know you’re an easy target and everything, since you can’t defend yourself, but you’re still a kid and I wouldn’t think villains would target people our age, you know? It’s not like we have much to give them. Unless it was another kid mugging you, right? Someone your own age?”

Izuku’s brain filled with a high-pitched tone, his eyes widening as he stared up at her too-innocent expression. He expected to see her face crack, expected her to laugh it off or tease or whatever, but she just kept giving him that strangely impassive look, that fake smile still waiting on her lips, never moving an inch.

“Um, no,” he choked out finally. “I don’t.”

“Huh, weird.”

With that she straightened up and walked away, leaving Izuku to stare after her in disbelief. Katsuki glared at him, from a few seats over, and Izuku ducked his head quickly to avoid the sharp, threatening gaze. It wasn’t his fault Imiko had decided to talk to him! If Katsuki had a problem with it, he should have told her to leave him alone! It wasn’t like he was gonna steal her or something. Like he could, even if he'd wanted to.

But had she really just said that? He was used to his classmates making fun of him, or picking on him, but mugging him? The veil on that threat had been so thin it would fall apart in a light breeze. Who the hell did she think she was?! Only Kacchan got to threaten him! Just because she was hanging around him didn’t suddenly afford her all the same rights he had!

And aside from that, what the hell kind of future-pro-hero went around threatening to mug people?! And Quirkless people, at that! Talk about punching below the belt! Kacchan would never.

Kacchan deserved better! So much better! Honestly, what an asshole! He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought she was nice! Katsuki needed a good partner, someone who did helpful things and saved people, not someone who threatened to mug random Quirkless classmates just because they walked home the same direction as their future-boyfriend! Not cool!

He was still fuming when they finished up their break and headed over to the gym, was still grumbling under his breath when they split into teams for volleyball, only snapping out of his thoughts when he heard his teammates complaining – not only did they have the Deku on their team, but they were against Katsuki. He looked up, at that, and his eyes locked on a gaze of fire, the perfect, soft-looking lips smirking cockily.

Stupid Imiko. She was probably trying to kiss those lips. What a jerk. She didn’t deserve those lips.

Katsuki smacked the ball, and without thinking Izuku reached up, swatting it out of the air before it could hit him in the face. The impact left him cringing, his arms aching, but then the ball was hitting the ground on the other side of the net, and Katsuki was staring at him.

At him.

God, it had been so long since those eyes looked right at him.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki hissed, as the rest of the class just stood in silence. “Gimme the ball, I’m going again.”

This time, Katsuki aimed for his head, and it took everything in Izuku to not duck and attempt to avoid it. It was probably too late for that, though, considering it was about to hit him in the face, so instead he just covered up, crossing his arms in front of his face, and with a heavy thud that sent him skidding backwards, the ball bounced off.

Shot after shot, Katsuki aimed for his head, putting every ounce of strength from those beautiful, muscular arms into aiming at him with deadly precision, and watching as, despite the bruises it left behind, Izuku continued to block them. It was too late to start dodging them, too late to whine at him to cut it out, instead he was stuck trying to deflect them to his classmates and let them actually have a turn hitting the ball, instead of just watching Katsuki slam it onto the ground at their feet.

There was one fact Katsuki clearly hadn’t counted on: Izuku had played many a game of dodgeball with their class, he was well used to being hit with a barrage of balls. And sure, dodgeballs were a bit softer than volleyballs, but there was also only one volleyball to worry about. And a lot fewer classmates.

The whole class was whispering around him when he stepped off the court, Katsuki’s team staying on to play the next group, but Izuku didn’t even notice all the eyes looking his way, the hushed voices saying his name. He was too busy staring at Katsuki, watching as Imiko, his stupid teammate, sidled up beside him to praise his strength and aim and good kisses or whatever.

Stupid Imiko.

Fuck distancing himself from Katsuki’s life. He’d always promised he would try his best to be Katsuki’s hero, if he ever needed one, and if that meant keeping him from making a stupid mistake that might ruin his career, Izuku was sure as hell gonna do it.

The question was, how the hell was he supposed to do it?

─────

Izuku waited until the rest of the class had cleared out before he stepped into the shower area, hanging his towel just out of range of the spray where no one could run off with it without him noticing. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Footsteps echoed behind him in the showers, some straggler taking their time to finish washing and head back to the changing area, where a dozen conversations intersected, a bunch of teenage boys constantly talking over each other. Izuku just hoped whoever it was wouldn’t notice him there, wouldn’t pin a target on his back. Surely they wouldn't bother, right at the end of the day, especially since no one else was left there to see it and join in the game. He hoped the others wouldn’t hear it and come running, ready to jump on him and torment the living hell out of him.

He hadn’t even gotten his sweaty shirt off when the footsteps drew closer, and he whirled around in a hurry, a squeak of surprise forcing its way out of his lungs when Katsuki shoved him up against the wall.

“Deku,” he growled, slamming a hand on the wall and sending a thump echoing through the room. “What the fuck was that about, huh?”

“W-What are you t-talking about, Kacchan?” Izuku asked, squirming. He was so close. “What did I do?”

“You think you’re better than me all of a sudden?” Katsuki asked, leaning in closer, keeping him pinned against the cold, damp tiles. “Is that what you think, you damn nerd?”

“Of course not,” Izuku assured him, finally catching on. “But I’m gonna make you work for it.”

Katsuki froze, eyes widening, and Izuku clamped his jaw shut in a hurry. He wasn’t sure where that had come from; he’d just blurted it out without thinking, like a big, dumb idiot.

To his surprise, Katsuki didn’t respond. Not with scathing words that made Izuku regret opening his mouth, not with sparking palms that singed his hair and skin, not even with strong fingers curling into his shirt, slamming him against the wall again to make his point. He just stared, silently, for a long, tense minute, before he backed off.

He stormed over to the other side of the showers without a word, unpacking his toiletries far more roughly then necessary, and Izuku could only stare at his back, willing his stupid dick to get with the program. Katsuki had been threatening him, trying to intimidate him, why was his damn traitor of a penis so turned on by it?

Izuku showered quickly and made his escape, hoping against all hope that Katsuki might cool off a bit before he returned. Honestly, he hadn’t even seemed that mad about it, he’d certainly done far more intimidating things when Izuku pissed him off before. If anything he just seemed...

Oh.

Katsuki was embarrassed. Of course he was! Izuku had wounded his pride, even if he hadn’t intended to. That was why he’d waited so long to come to the changing rooms, why he’d only stepped into the shower after everyone else – Izuku aside – had finished up. Poor guy, his ego had been so full for so long, always propped up and refilled by the praise of the people around him, it must have hurt to feel it get bruised, especially by Izuku.

Not as much as Izuku’s arms hurt, of course — they were already turning a gross shade of purple — but hurt all the same.

All their classmates had gotten dressed and headed home by the time Izuku emerged, leaving the changing room empty aside from Izuku with his mop of damp, tangled hair that he couldn’t even begin to tame, no matter how much he fiddled with it while he waited for Katsuki to finish his shower. All the lockers had been emptied out – Izuku’s bag sitting beside him on the bench, waiting for him to take it home, and Katsuki’s stuff just piled in a corner, tossed aside to get through in a hurry, to not get drawn into a conversation he didn’t want to be a part of.

While the water ran on the other side of the wall, Izuku found himself drawn to that little pile. Katsuki’s gym uniform was all creased and crumpled, discarded as Katsuki stripped on his way past, and Izuku found his fingers twitching toward it, reaching for the worn fabric.

To smooth out the wrinkles, keep it looking nice.

Even he didn’t believe himself.

But what could it hurt, right?

He slowly picked up the shirt, holding it between his hands and breathing in, catching a faint whiff of Katsuki’s burnt-smelling sweat. He’d always expected Katsuki to smell sweet for some reason, but instead it was acrid, smoky, and somehow he still didn’t mind it. It was Katsuki’s, after all, even if it made his nose wrinkle a little at first sniff.

He brought it a little closer, taking a longer breath in, trying to pick out exactly what that scent was. It reminded him of the barbecues they’d had in the Bakugous’ backyard, when they were just little kids on summer vacation, spending their days together playing in sprinklers and sharing popsicles. Masaru had stood over the little grill, flipping sausages and burger patties, and gently deflecting them away when they ran too close and risked crashing and burning themselves on it. And when the meat was cooked, Masaru had laid it out neatly on warm buns for them, letting them immediately make a mess of it as they piled on their own toppings and condiments.

Izuku smiled to himself softly, closing his eyes. They were good memories, happy memories, from before Katsuki had decided he didn’t want to hang out with a Quirkless loser anymore. That smell didn’t just belong to Katsuki, it belonged to him, to their history together. No one could ever take that away from him.

A sharp thunk on the tiles made Izuku look up with a start, wide-eyed as he met Katsuki’s narrowed gaze, neither of them saying a word. The shirt stayed in Izuku’s hands, incriminating as all hell, and for once in his life, Katsuki seemed to be lost for words.

“K-Kacchan!” he squeaked, dropping the shirt and immediately regretting it when it landed on the less-than-clean tiles. “I thought you were in the shower!”

“I forgot my shampoo,” Katsuki said flatly, eyebrows sinking lower over his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Nothing! I swear! I just noticed your clothes were w-wrinkled so I thought I’d s-straighten them out for you! That’s all!”

Katsuki took two steps closer, towel hanging precariously from his hips, and Izuku squeezed his eyes shut.

Goodbye Mom, goodbye All Might, goodbye merch collection, goodbye katsudon, I’ll miss you all.

Thick fingers tangled in Izuku’s hair, yanking his head back, and Izuku couldn’t help but crack his eyes open again as he yelped, trying to pull away but only making it worse.

“Thought you were just being an idiot before,” Katsuki sneered, forcing Izuku to meet his heavy gaze. “Should’ve known you were just a pervert.”

“P-P-Pervert?!” Izuku squawked. “No! What?! I am not a pervert, Kacchan, stop being mean!”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki snorted, jamming a knee between Izuku’s legs and making him yelp again. “I knew you were stupid but I didn’t think you were this stupid.”

He shoved Izuku down, knees banging on the cold tiles, and with the tiniest flick of his free hand, his towel fell to the ground. Izuku couldn’t do anything but stare, Katsuki’s sweaty, half-hard cock swinging right in his face.

“Well?” Katsuki prompted, when Izuku didn’t move or speak for a long minute. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”

“W-Waiting for...?” Izuku choked out.

“If you’re gonna be a gross stalker you can at least get me off in the process.”

Izuku waited another moment, looking up at Katsuki’s face for any hint of anything, but Katsuki just stared back impassively, only the tapping foot by Izuku’s knee giving away his impatience.

Izuku opened his mouth.

“That’s more like it,” Katsuki smirked, stepping in a little closer. “Go on, you damn Deku, maybe this is something you’ll actually be decent at.”

Izuku hated to admit the way Katsuki’s torment made his dick twitch, painfully hard within his too-tight school pants. He didn’t dare to move, to try to find some relief for it, he was too terrified that he might break the illusion, might suddenly wake up on his bed at home between disgustingly sticky sheets. He balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms, wondering if that little squeeze of pain might help wake him up like people in movies who asked someone to pinch them, but still, nothing.

“Well?” Katsuki asked. “You gonna do it or not, nerd? Either suck my sweaty dick or stop wasting my time and let me go shower.”

Izuku stuck his tongue out quickly, swiping it over the tip, and Katsuki stepped in closer again, feet touching Izuku’s knees. At any other time he'd have been concerned about how dirty Katsuki’s feet might be, all sweaty from his gym shoes and now picking up everything from the tiles around them, but when Izuku was already kneeling on that same floor, and he’d just been caught sniffing Katsuki’s sweaty clothes, he wasn’t sure he had a leg to stand on.

“Can I?” he blurted out finally.

Katsuki gave him a scathing look, but Izuku just waited patiently.

“You think I’m just standing here with my cock in your face for fun or something? If you’re gonna do it, fucking do it.”

Izuku figured that was the closest he was going to get to I want you to, so he decided to cut his losses, leaning in and wrapping his lips around the head. He paused again, then, eyes darting up to Katsuki’s face, surprised to find his scowl immediately gone. He wasn’t smiling, but his forehead had smoothed out, lacking the creases of his usual frowns, and he wasn’t baring his teeth, trying to look intimidating. He was... peaceful.

Izuku sucked gently, watching that face contort again, mouth falling open a little as he tensed up to keep upright. Izuku realised far too late that he probably should have suggested Katsuki sit down, or at least lean on something, but it wasn’t like Katsuki would have taken his advice anyway, in all fairness. So instead he just continued, moving his lips a little lower, his mouth filling up with Katsuki’s sweaty dick.

He didn’t smell as charcoal-y, down there – it was more musky and sour, more like Izuku’s own gross post-P.E. smell. Maybe because he was usually wearing pants when he started throwing sparks, or maybe some kind of weird proximity thing with his quirk – the closer to his hands his sweat glands got, the more they smelled like burning.

A hot hand grabbed him by the hair, and Izuku would have squeaked if not for his mouth being far too full. It actually felt surprisingly good, a lot more gentle than his usual grabs, and it didn’t drag him in, didn’t force him deeper, it just... stayed.

Izuku moved his tongue, swiping it from side to side to add some lubrication, then sank a little bit lower, testing it out. He moved back and forth slowly, just a little at a time, and Katsuki’s fingers curled a little tighter, his breaths becoming ragged and uneven.

He couldn’t get the whole thing in his mouth, could barely cover half, but he tentatively wrapped a hand around the lower part, to give him a little friction. Katsuki moaned above him, and Izuku was pretty sure he could die happy, after hearing that sound.

All too soon Katsuki’s legs were trembling, his second hand joining the first in Izuku’s hair, and with rapid, shallow breaths, he came.

Izuku was no stranger to cum; he was a teenager, it wasn’t like he’d never jerked off before. But it was the first time he’d seen someone else’s and he was weirdly glad that it was Katsuki’s. They’d shared so many firsts already, it only made sense to share that one too, right?

“Fuck,” Katsuki hissed, refusing to look as Izuku swallowed valiantly.

“Did that... feel good?” Izuku asked quietly. “I can... work on it. If you, um, want me to try again some time.”

Katsuki glared at him, but it failed to completely hide his surprise, and Izuku cracked a little smile despite the awful taste in his mouth and the awfully sticky hand he held awkwardly in front of him to avoid getting it on his clothes.

“Gonna go shower,” Katsuki grunted finally, snatching his towel up and storming off toward the next room.

“Kacchan! Wait!”

“Fuck off!”

“But you forgot your shampoo!”

A stream of expletives echoed back at him, and Izuku smiled to himself as he picked up the bottle, hurrying over to the doorway to deliver it to him. He didn’t get a thanks, hadn’t expected it, but what he did get was a glimpse of Katsuki’s bright pink cheeks, a sweet blush taking over his face and spreading down to almost cover his shoulders.

“Have a good shower, Kacchan,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow.”

Izuku walked home alone that night.