Title: Lift Your Hands (toward the sun)
Author: Timothy Wren
Fandom: BNHA
Challenge: Kinktober 2020
Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku
Word Count: 3,979 (Complete)
Genre: Established Relationship, Pro Hero/future fic, Domestic Sex, Banter
Summary: There’s blood on his mouth and it’s not the first time they’ve passed his quirk between them with a painful kiss.
There’s blood on his mouth and it’s not the first time they’ve passed his quirk between them with a painful kiss. The taste of copper is familiar on his tongue, the ripping sting of a split lip.
Katsuki pushes him against the wall, trembling, and passes the glowing sun between them. Izuku swallows it whole. Katsuki swallows the sound he makes, punched out and desperate.
“Fucking stop that.” Katsuki breathes, half a growl, and Izuku laughs with the recklessness time has given him. The city directly around them is mostly leveled, the battlefield wrecked, and the structural integrity of the building he’s shoved against is less ‘in question’ and more ‘flirting nebulously with Danger Sense.’
“Never.” He grins, enjoying the flare of pain-pleasure along the ruin of his mouth. He hooks an ankle around Katsuki’s, jerking him closer.
“Deku! Keep your fucking quirk under your skin where it belongs.” Katsuki barks.
“Maybe.” The grin hasn’t left his voice. His hands settle big and scarred on Katsuki’s hips, slim in the dark fabric of his uniform.
“Nerd.” Katsuki says, desperate.
“Kacchan.” Deku flutters his eyelashes, aware he’s being a little shit. The molten, caramel burn of One for All settling into his bones is its own kind of drug, twining around the adrenaline of the battle.
The remnants of the thrill, the cell-deep light of his quirk settling, like stars. It’s stronger than when he gave it away. Katsuki kept it safe, nurtured it, made it more powerful.
Katsuki gave it back.
“Ugh.” The blonde crowded Izuku further against the wall, burying his face into his neck. “I hate it when they’re his.”
One of Izuku’s hands came up to hold the back of his head, nitroglycerin– Kacchan’s hair was sweaty with it, of course– coating his glove. The familiar smell of kettlecorn grounded him; a scent he’d known since he was four years old.
“Same.” Izuku breathed. The terror of one of All For One’s men with their bullshit quirk of the week, trying to steal his quirk– it wasn’t the kind of thing you grew used to.
Not like his go-to strategy; that, he was more than comfortable with.
“I don’t have it.” Izuku had smirked, after luring the villain into close combat, into an already-evacuated area. He’d come at Izuku with everything he had, demanding the quirk All Might passed on to him, but it was too late.
Bakugou Katsuki had re-entered the fray like a shooting star, explosions super-powered by the nine who came before them, by the childhood friend who took All Might’s power and took it even further.
“He does.”
The comical expression on the villain’s face before a supernova dogwalked him was one Izuku would remember for a long while. He hoped one of the drone camera footage’s managed to record it, though there was no chance the audio was picked up.
“We’ve got to come up with a different strategy. You can’t just dump it on me every time.”
“Can.” Izuku nuzzled his nose against Katsuki’s jaw, riding the pleasant ache through his muscles and the thrill of victory.
Symbol of Hope. Symbol of Victory.
Well, Izuku could appreciate a win just like everybody else, could be stubborn enough to break every bone in his body and beyond just to come out on top.
And ‘hope’ was too tame a word for what he felt when he was at his lowest, his darkest, his most beaten and hurt, and saw Bakugou Katsuki on the horizon.
Cavalry, Izuku thought dizzily, pressing a kiss to the corner of Katsuki’s jaw.
“Kacchan.” He breathed. He shuddered as his DNA welcomed the singing resonance of his quirk. Of their quirk.
Explosion had been part of One for All for almost as long as Izuku had had it; had joined the list back at the beginning, when he was still finding his feet. He’d had it almost as long as Black Whip, from the first time he passed the quirk to Katsuki during first year.
It warmed him from the inside, though the quirk didn’t work just like Katsuki’s. He could ignite the explosions, and he was blastproof, but he didn’t sweat nitroglycerin.
One for All didn’t transfer mutation quirks.
“Dumbass.” Katsuki nipped sharply at Izuku’s neck, drawing the faintest hint of blood. They’d have to get that cleaned, of course; human mouths had so much bacteria. But the fact of the matter was, he already had scrapes and scratches and cuts all over, and saliva was going to get into them for sure, because–
Well. Izuku had some post-battle plans, that’s all.
Besides, there’s a reason they were both up on those shots, and it wasn’t just because cornered, desperate villains tended to get bitey.
“My place or yours?” Izuku asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” Katsuki grunted. “Anywhere. Here.”
He nudged a leg between Izuku’s, pressing a thigh hard to his cup.
“Absolutely not.” Izuku said, laughing. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Your costume’s already half falling off you.” Katsuki grumbled. “Doesn’t make much difference.”
“We’re too far up on the charts to get caught having public sex.”
A drone flew by and Izuku pulled away long enough to gasp for breath and wave at it, speaking out of the corner of his mouth as he put on a smile– the smile.
Katsuki rolled his eyes. Nobody expected anything but bloodthirstyness from him, so when he glared into the camera it probably made his fans squeal.
Unfair.
Then again, when Deku lost his smile and glared, villains tended to drop their weapons and turn themselves in, so– maybe it evened out.
“Let’s go.” A hand on his shoulder, tugging.
Izuku nodded. They took to the rooftops, which was more precarious than usual for obvious reasons. Luckily, this area had already been under construction.
They’d set the schedule back on the rebuild, but it was better than dismantling a non-evacuated, perfectly intact bit of Tokyo.
They slammed into Izuku’s apartment with a violence that shuddered through the door jam.
“We’re hell on the hinges.” Izuku muttered into his oldest friend’s mouth.
“Fuck ‘em. That’s why we own the building outright.”
True; no hero could afford a security deposit geared toward their lifestyles.
Katsuki muscled him into the living room, tripping over the table and shedding gear. He shoved Izuku onto the couch and his top out of the way, rucked up around his tits so he could leave a trail of harsh bites down his ribs.
Izuku sucked in a desperate breath, arching into it. He groaned at a particularly hard nip, throwing his head against the cushions.
“–drive me nuts, I swear to god.” The rough texture of Katsuki’s gloves slid along the sensitive skin of his belly, raising goosebumps, and the man himself laid a trail of heartbreakingly soft, gentle kisses along his hip.
It was almost more startling than the bites.
Mercurial, unpredictable– and so, so reliable, a touchstone Izuku could count on in any era. Kacchan would always be himself. He’d never falter there.
Izuku laughed, running a hand through sweaty gold hair.
“Don’t complain.” He said, mouth barely moving. His breath hitched as Katsuki’s thumb jerked the button of his fly, yanking the thread off. The plastic piece landed across the room.
“Hey! Ah, fuck, nevermind– the pants are ruined anyway.”
“Obviously.” Katsuki wiggled his thumb through the shredded holes up the thighs, where the fabric was barely hanging on. Lightning was hell on his uniforms, but the villain had done more damage this time. And the building that fell on him, happily only half-complete.
Actually, thinking about it, Izuku was pretty sure his incident reports would assign “miscellanious shrapnel” as the main culprit of damage to his clothing.
Well, that and Ground Zero’s teeth.
“Kacchan!” Izuku breathed, laughing, as the blonde ripped through the remaining bits of fabric holding his pants on and preserving his modesty.
“Don’t give me that shit, you already said they’re trashed.” He pressed the tiny button that would retract Izuku’s cup– Hatsume Mei, everyone, absolutely revolutionizing the post-battle “thank god we didn’t die” sex industry of heroics–
“Yeah.” Izuku hissed as those teeth started in on his thighs, ignoring the perfectly hard line of his cock straining against his underwear. He tangled his fingers in blonde hair, warning. “But my team likes to look at the areas that got fucked up to decide where to reinforce on the next model.”
Katsuki dug a thumb into a fresh bruise, earning a sharp gasp and a tug to his hair. The pleasure-pain of it rolled across the blonde visibly, through his shoulders and back.
“Ugh.” Katsuki made a face. “What do you care, anyway? You’re still high off quirk transfer.”
Izuku slid one hand to his shoulder, pinched him. Katsuki turned his head and caught the flesh of Izuku’s thigh in his teeth, holding it there, keeping a chunk in his mouth.
“Not high.” He said. “Merely… adjusting.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, let Izuku go, and slid up to mouth at his balls through the thin, remaining fabric.
“Mm, but I know better.” Katsuki sucked first one and then the other into his mouth, pulling off with a rough suck to the soaked cotton.
Izuku was fast forgetting what they were talking about. Breaking a sweat after a fight was always weird; he was already soaked, already sweaty and smelly. The new rush of sensation made him feel overwarm and restless.
“I feel it too, you know?” Katsuki’s voice curling dark around his hip, as his lips just barely grazed Izuku’s straining cock. He mouthed at the clothed base. “Like fire. Sunshine.”
“Star to star.” Izuku said, dazed, picturing it. “Comet to comet, connecting points of light. You’re next.”
“Constellations.” Katsuki fished Izuku’s cock out of his boxers and slid down, taking him into the hot, velvet warmth of his mouth and all the way into his throat at once.
Izuku’s hips bucked, choking on a startled scream.
He cried out again, lost in it, as Katsuki swirled his tongue around– no adjustment, no easing into it. Shit, his hero name should have been Full Throttle.
Izuku shuddered through it, feeling a thousand things at once. His injuries sang– and oh, they’d be getting an earful about skipping the post-fight medical– and his quirk was on fire and the lightning in his body felt like a storm.
It crackled to life around him, lighting up the shadows of the living room. They hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights in their haste to get horizontal, to get inside each other in all the other ways that mattered.
Katsuki’s nails curled into his thighs, drawing crescent moons of blood, and he groaned around Izuku’s cock. Static electricity raced along their bodies, Izuku’s sparks catching along Katsuki’s aura. One for All didn’t manifest as lightning for him, just as it didn’t for All Might, but in moment’s like this– when Katsuki was successor and predecessor, rewriting his history and his DNA– his sparks didn’t much differentiate between them.
They were as much a part of Katsuki as they were a part of Izuku. His power. Their power.
Izuku shuddered through an orgasm like it was ripped from him, almost startled to feel the familiar pull of his quirk leaving him, of willing fire changing hands between them, of the torch passing on.
“Motherfucker!” Katsuki wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared hard.
“I didn’t mean to!” Izuku laughed. “The sparks, I–”
“Shut up!” Katsuki kissed the laughter into his mouth, chased it to the source. He made it messy, swapping spit– and no small amount of Izuku’s own release– until he growled into the kiss and Izuku tripped into the ignition point.
One For All sang between their bodies, flowing in a mobius strip; barely touching Katsuki’s spirit before being shoved right back, a closed circuit.
It lit the back of Izuku’s throat, it tasted like fire, it consumed him; Izuku broke from the kiss with a harsh gasp and Katsuki knocked his forehead into Izuku’s just this side of rough.
“Dumbass.” He hissed, but he was breathing hard, and he looked– unraveled by light. Like he was just as affected.
“Now who’s high on quirk transfer?” Izuku ran his fingertips along Katsuki’s cheek, lightly. The color there, the intensity of his eyes; the way he looked just shy of undone.
“Still you.” Katsuki said, unimpressed. “But– fuck that’s a rush.”
Izuku leaned forward, tongue prodding his cut lip, and Katsuki caught him with a palm across his mouth.
“Don’t do it again. Swear to fuck, it’s a game of bloody keep away with you sometimes.”
“Reverse keepaway, maybe.” Izuku leaned back, hardly able to concentrate around the rush– and knowing Katsuki was feeling the same damn thing, pupils blown with how his veins carried fire.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Katsuki cut eyes aside at Izuku. His lips were ever so slightly swollen.
Izuku pulled him into a kiss.
He got hands on Katsuki’s hips again, his favorite place for them to rest, but they were not idle. He manhandled the other hero into his lap, legs tangled and splayed and utility belts digging into uncomfortable places.
He just didn’t care.
Izuku licked the taste of himself out of his best friend’s mouth, being a bit rough about it. He was rewarded with the quick rise and fall of Katsuki’s chest, the way he leaned into the intensity, hands tight on Izuku’s shoulders.
“Want a ride?” Izuku asked, nipping Katsuki’s lip without bothering to be careful about it.
Katsuki cracked open blood red eyes to glare at him.
“You sure you can get it up?” He asked, rudely and unnecessary. Izuku rolled his eyes, dragging Katsuki against him– against his very obviously hard cock, dragging into the rough material of the other’s costume pants at the thigh.
Katsuki shivered to be moved so obviously. He swallowed.
“Yeah, fuck, fine.”
Izuku leaned back to give him room, watching his biceps roll and move as he stripped out of his top. He rubbed his thumbs in lazy circles on Katsuki’s hip bones. If he were more undressed, he’d give a few lazier tugs at the blonde’s cock while he worked.
“Don’t even think about it.” Katsuki glared.
Izuku grinned up at him. Nothing could bother him at the moment. He felt invincible.
Katsuki threw his shirt and undershirt and other accouterments– Izuku would never put bandoliers in his own costume– across the room.
Lightning danced. Izuku tugged and the bottoms of Katsuki’s suit came apart in three different pieces, floating to the ground next to the couch and between the cushions.
Katsuki’s pupils widened noticeably.
“Fucker.” He muttered, just to be stubborn. “My uniform wasn’t fucked.”
“Now we’re even.” Izuku took his hips again and rolled his own in a shallow thrust. It pressed their cocks together, bare and wet and perfect pressure.
Katsuki groaned low, hands falling to Izuku’s abs. It was a rush. After years, it was still a rush, watching him like this, feeling his fingers splayed across Izuku’s stomach muscles.
He slid a hand down to wrap around both of them, scarred fingers a shocking contrast. He couldn’t help but watch them slide together, shaking at the sensation and the visual.
Katsuki’s hands skated across his chest like live wires, pausing at his shoulders– grabbing on. Leverage.
“I was fucking myself before this.” His voice sounded, a rumble of challenge, so deep and sexy. Izuku had been jerking off to it since before he consciously jerked off to anything, guiltily humping his pillow in his dorm room.
“No way you didn’t tense right back up from the fight.” He was closer, now; Izuku bit along his jaw when he leaned down.
“That was before your quirk got me high.” He took one hand back, rising on his thighs. They lifted his weight beautifully, reaching back with a sigh.
Izuku watched him with half-lidded eyes.
“Our quirk.” He said, just to watch Katsuki cuss. He glared at Izuku.
It should have been less effective in the ‘vulnerable’ position, but it wasn’t. He slid fingers into his ass with a little hiss and nudged his knee rudely into Izuku’s leg, looking very ready to cut a bitch.
Izuku smiled at him.
“Shut the fuck up.” Katsuki muttered, rolling his eyes. He sighed, working himself open. Izuku winced in sympathy, imagining the dry pull, the roughness. Sweat wasn’t enough, not even with his quirk.
An eldritch tendril ripped out of him, jerking open an end table. Katsuki almost jumped, and laughed loudly as Izuku dropped a tube of lubricant into his hand.
“Now there’s a quirk I wouldn’t mind inside me.” He challenged. Izuku felt his eyes darken.
“Probably not the best idea.” He rubbed his thumb against Katsuki’s bottom lip, fingers sliding against his jaw.
“What, all these years and you still don’t have the control?”
“Black Whip is… volatile.” Izuku grinned, a touch smug. “Like all my favorite things.”
A playful shove, Katsuki’s free hand thumping against his sternum. He was rocking into his fingers now, thighs rising against Izuku’s, legs spread on either side of his lap so he could feel every minute shift of weight.
God, fuck.
“You might have better luck with it.” He offered.
Katsuki blinked at him, pink already scattered high across his cheek bones. It took him a second to process.
He dug his fingers into Izuku’s chest, catching the edge of a long but shallow cut. Izuku hissed.
“Stop trying to foist it off on me!” Katsuki glared. “It’s your quirk.”
“Mm.” Izuku hummed, not agreeing one way or another. Noncommittal. “What’s mine is yours?” He tried.
Katsuki shot him the most unimpressed look.
“Just fuck me before I lose all respect for you.” He pulled his fingers out of himself with a quick, sharp inhale, wiping his fingers on a bit of rag that might have once been either of their uniform.
It was hard to tell. These days, like when he first started, he had bits of red and orange run through it, and Katsuki had green through his grenades and stripes.
Izuku stole the lube and poured a generous amount. He reached between them, sliding fingertips along Katsuki’s cleft until he felt the indent of his hole.
“I know how to get ready, idiot.” Katsuki ran his hands impatiently along Izuku’s stomach.
“Let me…” Izuku trailed off, fingertips of two fingers rubbing his hole. It was wet from the lube and yielded without issue, letting him press in.
Katsuki tipped his head back and cried out, more pitch than a moan.
“Dipshit.” He panted.
“Let me,” Izuku repeated. He thrust his fingers in smoothly, spreading them wide– he scissored them for a moment, keeping pressure on the rim, sliding in and out slightly.
Katsuki reached down and fisted Izuku’s cock, rubbing moisture from the head down the shaft. He was leaking. His breathing got away from him as Katsuki worked, as Izuku tortured his ass a little.
He slid his fingers in as far as they’d go and rubbed Katsuki’s prostate, watching his cock jump, angry and neglected between them.
“Deku!” Kastsuki shouted, squeezing Izuku’s cock. Izuku bucked up into him helplessly, hissing at the grip, fresh sweat breaking out at his back, temple, chest.
“Easy,” Izuku reminded, wincing, and Katsuki’s grip loosened immediately.
“I’ll show you ‘easy’.” Katsuki grumbled. “Come the fuck on, you always make me wait.”
“Not ‘always.’” Izuku protested. Katsuki leveled him with a glare. He leaned forward and scraped his teeth meanly against the edge of a cut, right next to Izuku’s nipple. Then he bit that, too, and Izuku laughed with the pain.
He batted Katsuki’s hand away from his cock and slicked it up, indulging in a few lazy pumps to watch Katsuki’s mouth drop open. Izuku’s own eyes were half-lidded, want thrumming through him.
He wiped his hand and nudged Katsuki into position, tugging him forward until Izuku’s cock slid along his cleft.
It bumped roughly against his hole and they both sucked in air, overwhelmed.
Then Katsuki was shoving him back, climbing astride his ownself, and slipping down his cock much like he’d blown him earlier; all at once, with no time to adjust.
Izuku cried out, fingers fisting in the cushions. There was an immediate tearing sound, heralding the need for a new couch– or at least replacement cushions– but he was beyond caring.
Tight, wet heat– almost mean, clenching immediately–
Katsuki had no mercy, immediately throwing himself into a fast pace, and it was all Izuku could do to grab his hips and hold on.
“Why are you like this,” Izuku laughed, leaning up to kiss the sweat at Katsuki’s temple as they both breathed hard and fucked their way to what would no doubt be a too-quick release.
“Shut up, you’re one to — fuck– talk!” Katsuki tipped his head into the crook of Izuku’s shoulder and neck, not so much biting there as gnawing. One hand closed around Izuku’s throat, offering no pressure, more of a loving hold than a choke.
It still lit up nerves all along Izuku’s body– no, that was the sparks again, arcing between them. Katsuki groaned into the skin of his neck.
“Deku, Deku– fuck!” He threw his other hand back onto Izuku’s thigh, lifting up to get better leverage. One hand a loose necklace at Izuku’s throat, one on his thigh, holding him up. The picture was not unaffecting.
Izuku wrapped his fingers around Katsuki’s cock, jerking him in time to the rise and fall of his hips. He met each thrust, grinding where he could, and blood and sweat mingled between them, the smell of dust and nitroglycerin alive in the air.
It was like the fight all over again, with none of the stakes; adrenaline and Izuku’s quirk rushed through them, a river of golden fire. Izuku thought about passing it along again, about rubbing some stray blood or come into one of Katsuki’s many shallow cuts, about climbing inside him in every way available to them.
You have to will it.
The transfer wasn’t automatic, but it was sweet; as often as it was a rushed, bloody kiss, it was sometimes this: Izuku pouring fire into Katsuki’s throat, drinking down the boundless power that burned inside him.
He– barely– refrained. They were already lost in it, the muted embers, the tendrils of power and legacy thrumming through them– connection—
“Fucking– don’t you dare!” Katsuki yelled. He stroked nails meanly down Izuku’s leg, leaving lines of pleasure-pain through the sparks, and Izuku shuddered through climax, only keeping his quirk to himself at the last minute.
Katsuki threw his head back with a shout, following him, and it could have been so much better– so much more powerful, tying them together, laced with all the energy of the sun– but he contented himself with the echoes of connection that said yours-mine-ours, reaching for the same stars.
Katsuki slumped against him with a grunt.
Izuku gathered him up with a shaky inhale, pulling the afghan off the back of the couch and wrapping them in it. Like this, the world was small– just the two of them, glowing in the perception of his quirk, twin suns sharing an orbit.
“Don’t get sappy on me.” Katsuki muttered into his tit.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Izuku offered back, just as quiet.
With the flames banked, exhaustion creeped up on him. He knew they needed to eat, check in with their agencies, and get started on the reams of paperwork such a bullshit large battle would require, but for now–
He sank into an easy sleep, weighed down by equal parts exhaustion and contentment, blood and sweat mingling between them and seeping into the couch.