Summary:
If Izuku wants Katsuki's attention, he's gonna have to work for it.
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They've been so wrapped up in work lately that sex hasn't been on their agenda for awhile. The city has been overrun with villain activity for weeks––nothing that leaves them bleeding out on a stretcher or immobilizes any of their limbs, but enough that their bodies are starting to sag under the weight of their exhaustion.
They manage rough, unskilled handjobs under the covers before they fall asleep, and occasionally Deku will drop to his knees in the shower and suck Katsuki off before his patrol because he's a great fucking boyfriend. But that's about it.
Katsuki knows they're equally tired. He also knows that Deku is insatiable. He's dick-spoiled, and he can get downright mean when he goes too long without being fucked. He doesn't care if it's a quick fuck, he doesn't even care if he comes. It doesn't matter; he wants whatever Katsuki chooses to give him, and he wants it all the time.
They're both off today for the first time in weeks, and Deku is kissing down Katsuki's neck as soon as their alarm goes off. Katsuki hums to himself and reaches over to slap at the off button.
"Good morning to you, too," Katsuki murmurs, pulling Deku on top of him and running his hands down his sides.
"Didn't I say good morning?" Deku asks, eyes wide and deceivingly innocent. "Must've forgotten my manners."
"You haven't had manners since he day you were born," Katsuki scoffs. "I want you to ride me."
"You're one to talk about manners," Deku mumbles, but he wastes no time grabbing the lube off the nightstand and tossing it in Katsuki's general vicinity.
Katsuki rolls his eyes as he pops the cap off and slicks up two fingers. It's been awhile, but Deku loves the stretch. Loves to prove that he'll take the discomfort if it means Katsuki will be inside him sooner.
Katsuki fingers him open, ignoring Deku's protesting whines as he takes his time with it.
"Shut up," he snaps, swatting his free hand against Deku's ass. Deku bites his lip and cranes his head to the ceiling.
Once Katsuki is satisfied, he grabs at Deku's hips and guides him onto his cock. Deku sinks down and the stretch makes him groan out loud, already sounding wrecked with it. He forces himself to meet Katsuki's eyes once he bottoms out. Katsuki is big on eye contact, likes to see the blissful expressions that overcome Deku every time they fuck.
Deku doesn't move, waiting for some kind of instructions from Katsuki like he always does. He doesn't need to be told how to fuck, but the power imbalance gets both of them off, so they go with it. Katsuki just watches him, runs a lazy hand across his chest and rolls Deku's nipple between his fingers.
His eyes flick up and focus on Deku's lip where he's worrying it between his teeth, then to the droplets of sweat already forming between his pecs. He can feel Deku's inner thigh contracting against him, as if spasming under the demand of Deku's attempt to be still. He doesn't meet Deku's eyes because he doesn't want Deku to take it as a confirmation that he can move.
"Kacchan," Deku manages between shaky breaths. His cock is curved up flush against his stomach, wetness already pooling at the tip. He's trying so hard to resist the urge for friction and it makes Katsuki's cock twitch inside him. "Kacchan, please, tell me how you want me, I-"
"You can move, Deks," Katsuki eventually says, crossing his arms behind his head.
Deku sighs out a relieved moan and starts to move, not bothering with building up to a quick pace. There's no rhythm to it, no thought behind it, just Deku heaving himself up with his hands planted on Katsuki's chest, fingernails digging into the soft flesh. A few slides of Katsuki's cock inside has Deku on the verge of tears already, so Katsuki reaches out and grabs harshly at his hips.
"Deku," he chides, squeezing hard. "My dick isn't going anywhere. Slow down."
Deku exhales shakily and drops his chin to his chest in an attempt to hide the embarrassed blush painting his cheeks. Katsuki hitches his hips up the smallest amount, setting a pace for Deku to match. He catches on quickly, so Katsuki returns to his previous position with his hands behind his head.
It's incredible to Katsuki, the fact that he's in such a relaxed position, that Deku has complete control to move however the fuck he wants, but he's happy to relinquish all the decision-making and take whatever pleasure Katsuki allows him, even when it's none at all.
Katsuki can tell Deku is working hard to keep up the pace that they set, but he's needy, can't help but speed up after awhile and test the waters. When Katsuki's expression doesn't change, he gains the confidence to rock back and forth until he's built up to a good, steady rhythm.
Deku is finally letting go, circling his hips and moaning like he wants the whole street to hear him. Truthfully, he probably does. His pace doesn't falter once, even when Katsuki's phone starts buzzing and inches dangerously close to the edge of the nightstand.
Then Katsuki reaches for it.
Deku can't help the way his hips stutter, caught off guard, but he keeps moving because he figures Katsuki is just putting it on do not disturb. When Katsuki thumbs the notifications open and brings the phone closer to his face, Deku stills to a halt, confused.
"I don't remember saying to stop moving," he says, eyes flicking to Deku and back to the screen.
Deku clears his throat, tries to mask the confusion on his face when he realizes that Katsuki is going to reply to whoever is texting him. Kirishima, probably, in which case the texts can't be anything more than outdated memes or an attempt to force Katsuki out of the house to meet their friends at some bar over the weekend.
But then Katsuki rolls his eyes at whatever is on his screen, and before Deku's brain can catch up to whatever is going on, Katsuki is pressing the phone to his ear. The volume is up loud enough that Deku can hear the monotone ring followed by an energetic voice on the other line. It was Kirishima. Deku huffs out a laugh despite his confusion. He finds the whole situation strangely fun and sexy, in a way.
He tries to catch Katsuki's eye, tries to find some way to feel like he's in on the game, but Katsuki just lolls his head to the side with the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. He bites his lip to stop a whine from escaping, not that he thinks Kirishima would even catch onto what's happening across the line. He's a smart guy, but he's oblivious sometimes.
Deku grins at the secrecy of it all, deciding to shove down the unsure feeling twisting in his gut. He rocks back and forth on Katsuki's cock, staying bottomed out and clenching tight in hopes it'll elicit some sort of reaction.
But Katsuki just listens to Kirishima rambling about something that definitely sounds less important than Deku riding his cock. Has to be, if Katsuki's noncommittal grunts of acknowledgement are anything to go by.
They've done this before, fooled around while someone was on the phone, but that time felt like a mutual thing. It wasn't Katsuki blatantly ignoring him; it was giggling and shushing and slapping a hand over their mouth to keep themselves quiet. Like an inside joke, almost. This time feels different in a way that makes Deku's heart race a little too fast.
"Yeah, fuck off, I told you I'm not coming," Katsuki grunts, and the casual tone of his voice makes Deku tense up, the ease with which he speaks to his friend as if Deku's movements aren't bringing him any pleasure at all.
A genuine spark of irritation tugs at his gut. He grips Katsuki's hips so tight that his nails leave crescent imprints, hoisting himself up and back down with a force that has his cock slapping against his own stomach. He looks to see if Katsuki's jaw clenches, if his eyelids droop, if his breath shakes.
Nothing.
"No amount of free drinks is going to drag me out of my bed," Katsuki says, eyes tracking a bird hopping around on the windowsill. "Who's the fuck even goes to that shitty bar?"
Deku growls deep in his chest, glaring at Kirishima as if he can even see Deku, then at Katsuki who still appears like he forgot Deku is in the room. He craves Katsuki's attention like he never has before, feels the need for it coursing through him, driving his hips up and down, over and over. Leaning forward, he arches his back and stretches his arms forward so he can plant his hands on either side of Katsuki's head. The bed gives him the leverage he needs to work himself harder on Katsuki's cock. The skim of his own cock against his lower belly sends sparks of pleasure up his spine, but he ignores it, focusing solely on getting a reaction.
Katsuki has to be playing some sort of game with him. Trying to see if Deku can read his mind, pick up on his nonverbal cues. At this point, he feels like he should be able to, and it frustrates him that nothing he's doing seems to be enough. If Katsuki can maintain a poker face as well as he has been, Deku must need to do more. Finally, finally, Deku slams down hard enough that Katsuki's voice wavers the slightest amount.
Then, "Deku? He's still asleep," Katsuki says, eyes flicking to him. "Lazy motherfucker."
Pissed off at that, the nonchalant way that Katsuki talks about him, Deku fucks himself fast and hard, his thighs burning from doing all the work. A foreign mixture of jealousy and motivation boils under his skin, so he takes a gamble, wedges his hand under Katsuki's head where it's pressed to the pillow. He gathers a tangle of hair in his hand and tugs on it the way he knows Katsuki secretly likes.
Katsuki closes his eyes, and it's such a small thing, but it hits Deku deep in his chest and he can't help the whimper that escapes him. Katsuki's eyes flick to his face once more, but Deku doesn't know if it's because he's scared Kirishima might have heard or because he's finding it harder to ignore Deku on top of him. He finds himself not caring, though, as he leans back and rests his hands on Katsuki's quads, changing his angle.
The light shines on his chest this way, illuminates the sheen of sweat and the sticky trail connecting from the head of Deku's cock to his lower stomach. He throws his head back and exposes the column of his throat so he's completely on display, all neck and abs and hard, flushed cock. He's not even looking at Katsuki at this point, almost doesn't care whether Katsuki's eyes are on him or not.
It—despite his frustration, it feels so damn good, the way he's having to work so hard for Katsuki's attention riling him up and making him hot. There's nothing he loves more than pleasing Katsuki, it's so deeply engrained in him, but right now it's tinged with something desperate and new. Katsuki isn't making him feel like he's not enough; he's driving him to do more, be better, and he wants that so bad.
It's getting harder, though, between the thoughts swirling in his head and the burn in his muscles. He's losing focus altogether, too close to coming to think about anything else.
He usually likes to get Katsuki off first, thinks maybe if he does that then Katsuki will finally end the fucking call and acknowledge his existence. He just doesn't care at this point, he's too on edge, simultaneously aroused and ashamed at the way he's so worked up while Katsuki is so relaxed.
He's just grinding in Katsuki's lap now, thighs too exhausted to hold his weight up anymore, and the change in angle must hit Katsuki because Deku catches him gripping the sheets. That's all it takes, that small, singular indication that he's making Katsuki feel good, then Deku is seizing up and falling forward as he comes between them, slumping across Katsuki's torso.
He's overwhelmed, can barely catch his breath, squirming uncomfortably from the sensation of Katsuki still hard and nudging against his prostate. He doesn't even know when Katsuki got off the phone, just distantly realizes that he probably isn't talking to Kirishima when he starts whispering praises in his ear.
He doesn't fight it when Katsuki wraps around him and flips them over, pushing Deku's knees to his shoulders and shoving back into him so hard that Deku cries out, thrashing against the sheets. The harshness with which Katsuki is pounding into him would make him smile if he wasn't so out of it. To Deku, it means maybe Katsuki was just as wound up this entire time, couldn't wait to fuck him into the mattress after all.
On the other hand, Katsuki is being rough with him, fingernails on one hand digging into the soft flesh behind his knee, the other fisted in Deku's curls and yanking them roughly. Maybe he's pissed off, maybe Deku didn't play the game right or do what Katsuki wanted him to do. He doesn't know and frankly doesn't care very much, too spent and turned on by it all.
He finally gets validation that he did a good job when Katsuki leans forward and gets in his ear.
"Got yourself too worked up, huh, baby?" he grunts, still hammering into him with the same frantic pace. "You liked that."
It isn't a question. Deku did like it. Having someone on the phone while they fucked around was one thing, but it isn't what has Deku so overwhelmed. He liked having to work so hard for Katsuki's validation when it usually comes so easy, liked that Katsuki didn't give a fuck how frustrated he was. A smaller part of him enjoyed it when he stopped caring about Katsuki's reactions and focused on his own release, on using Katsuki's cock however he needed to get there.
"L-liked it, Kacchan," he manages, voice wrecked.
"Such a good boy, aren't you?" Katsuki asks, and Deku allows himself to nod, knows that he is. "You did so well, you were so patient."
Deku's answering satisfied moan tips Katsuki over the edge, and with a tortured groan, he's coming deep inside Deku seconds later.
Deku is so spent he barely registers the warm cloth wiping him down or the soothing sound of Katsuki's praises in his ear. When Katsuki crawls back under the sheets, Deku is on him immediately, throwing an arm and leg over him and clutching to his side.
"You blow my fucking mind, 'Zuku," Katsuki mumbles into his hair. "Every damn time."
And that. That's what Deku has been working so hard for, what he needed so bad--the confirmation that he was giving Katsuki exactly what he wanted without a word exchanged between them. He knows Katsuki would never leave him insecure or on edge for too long, knew the gentle touches and soft affirmations would flow eventually.
He drifts off wondering when they can do it again.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050919