Chapter Text
“And we’re here.”
It was a summer like any other. Sizzling hot, dry even though they were close to the tropical valley, and bright with no clouds in the sky. Katsuki had picked him up early that day in his vintage red Meru he’s had since they were 16. Two cups of café con leche, one for each, accompanied by lots of fear of dropping the liquid over the black leather sticking to their exposed thighs.
Katsuki’s grandparents had left for the island for the rest of summer and had asked their favorite, and only, grandson to house-sit. The Bakugo’s family-house, located in between the hills of an old money neighborhood in their city and surrounded by gardens fenced to the tits, was as grand and imposing as their last name.
Izuku loved that house. He had grown up in it alongside his best friend making it feel like his own.
“For a week at least, no?”
The street-facing gate opened and Katsuki drove his car into the state to park it by the lot beside the kitchen entrance. Right under the blooming Araguaney they used to climb in middle school to pluck its yellow flowers.
“Yeah, let’s see if pops lets us have the house for a little longer,” Katsuki muttered under his breath and opened the door to get out. Izuku hummed, agreeing to the wishful thinking, and followed his best friend out of the car.
Branches snapping and leaves crunching under their havaianas as the plastic slapped against the heels of their feet with each step, the pair made their way towards the kitchen entrance—a metal staircase leading to the second floor of the house. As they climbed, Katsuki unhooked the carabiner from his shorts to grab the golden set of keys to let themselves in.
The kitchen was pristine, as always. Black granite floors with wooden cupboards, and a wide island in the middle with a note and an envelope under the glass-stand holding a carrot cake.
Katsuki kicked his flip flops to the side and walked barefoot on the cool floors to reach for the note. Izuku watched Katsuki lazily scan what he guessed was Pops’ cursive handwriting before setting the piece of paper down and moving to grab a slice of the cake. Izuku, the gossip, decided to take a peek at the note.
Dear ‘Tsuki,
Thank you so much for taking on the task of house sitting for us. There is some cash inside the envelope for you to order take-out or buy groceries. Xbox and Nintendo 64 are in your room, and the domino set should be in the living room’s seibo—under your grandma’s Rembrandt— if you wish to invite and play some hands with your uni friends.
Some extras!
- Be mindful of the pool, clean it once a day from the fallen garden leaves.
- The water will be on and off this week, some pipework, however we left the water tank full. Grab water, heat it, y’all better shower and do your dishes.
- Hose the courtyard palms when there is water. It's dry season and your grandma will have a fit.
- Lastly, wash your towels and bedsheets before you leave.
We’ll bring those one-meter-gum sticks Izuku likes, plus new Virgin of The Valley medals blessed from the island for you two.
Be good, boys!
Pops x
A blush grew across Izuku’s cheeks at the thought of Katsuki’s grandparents thinking of him.
“Freckles.”
Izuku turned at the sound of Katsuki’s voice, muffled by the food in his mouth. He came face to face with his best friend’s hand holding a half-eaten slice to his face. Izuku leaned forward to take two consecutive big bites, finishing the whole thing.
He looked at Katsuki’s gaze as the blonde one licked the cream cheese icing off his fingertips. He knew that look—the insatiable hunger pooling in those wine colored eyes. A look he often also carried if not more often than the other.
“Can I shower first?”
“Why? You know I like you a lil sweaty,” Katsuki said with a sneaky chuckle.
Izuku answered him with a glare and swiftly flipped him off.
They grabbed their respective backpacks from the floor and walked further into the house.
Katsuki’s grandfather, a renowned architect in their city, had bought a lot of land in the spot his wife had accepted to marry him. His goal was to build them a house, a home, in which they would live for the rest of their lives surrounded by their children, and the children of their children.
It had the flare and vigour of modernist-70s architecture while also conserving the homey aspects of warmth and comfort.
The entire house had the same black granite floors and tall pale walls covered in ceiling length windows. It was an open plan where you couldn’t distinguish where one room ended and another started. Plus, an inner courtyard surrounded by palms to separate the grass from the cold stone floors of the corridors boxing it.
They walked past the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, auburn colored wood panels matching the table. Then, past the section of the living room where the domino table was perpetually set with four matching foldable chairs. And then, past the other section where a set of couches and ottomans faced the never-used-before chimney.
They took a right, where a longer corridor nursed three identical sets of wooden doors—guest room, Mitsuki’s childhood room, Katsuki’s room.
“Let's check it out,” Katsuki said as they threw their backpacks against his door. By it he referred to the rest of the house. See how everything was left to make sure they also left it how it was found.
They took another right, this corridor had the same glass windows from the living room but also a glass door to exit to the backyard. As if an inner garden wasn’t enough . This one had a long porch with terracotta floors referred to as a “terrace” by Katsuki’s Nana, where outdoor couches resided. It also had a small pool—enough to fit 10 people without the possibility of swimming freely—and a pool house which was closer to an oversized gazebo.
Izuku loved the pool house. It reminded him of when Katsuki and he went to the same middle-school and they would come here to spend the afternoon after class. Trading their uniforms for denim shorts and shirtless to laze by the pool and play video games on the old TV Katsuki’s grandparents had set under the palm-roof of the pool house.
They lingered for a little to sneak a peek around and kept moving to take yet another right. The last corridor of the square was full of pictures and art collected throughout the years. A gallery of memories and treasures—from preschooler pictures of them both, to Mitsuki’s wedding, to old photographs of Katsuki’s grandparents framing big original Basquiats and Monets.
However, a hole in the wall led to a set of steps that went down to two big doors where the main bedroom was. Pops and Nana’s room, the place where Izuku and Katsuki would sleep in when thunderstorms shook the house to the core and pillow forts were raised and kept through weekends long.
“Looks alright to me,” Izuku said, looking at all three remaining corridors.
When he didn’t hear anything back, he turned to look at his best friend who was already staring back at him.
“What?” Izuku said with a raised eyebrow.
“So, are you showering or…”
Izuku let out a sigh that spelled the unsurprising disappointment towards the predictable question.
“I thought you liked me a little sweaty,” he teased.
Katsuki rolled his eyes and shoved him hard.
Their first kiss had been in their mid-teens, when everybody had been experimenting and they followed through with why nots . They had made a habit of it. Kissing in dark corners at their friends’ house parties. Makeouts in the back of Katsuki’s Meru parked in the church’s parking lot. Drool and tongues being exchanged in sleepovers at Pops and Nana’s, at Izuku’s apartment, at Katsuki’s house.
However, this game of theirs had been going on since senior year of high school. The weeks after their respective graduations were filled with post-grad celebrations. Around their city, different schools were celebrating the freedom acquired and the excitement for the future. Izuku’s graduation party started them off, a fun rager with an open bar and tuxes. Then Katsuki’s graduation party came the week after, ridiculously posh and with alumni smoking imported cigarettes in the back. That was the night they had fucked.
They had been exchanging spit by the hallway leading to the bathrooms of the venue when Izuku had whispered to Katsuki something like, wouldn’t it be hot if we fucked in your car? And Katsuki had answered with maybe a, it would blow my fucking mind.
Now, four years after that night—and their last year of Uni awaiting them after the summer break—they had kept the game going.
Izuku shoved Katsuki back, palms pressed against firm pecs. The shoves continued. Big, callous hands pressing hard against hard chests. Bodies stumbling in the corridor with grunts of strength and giggles of fun. Suddenly, Katsuki’s back hit the sturdiness of the white colored wall of the corridor, Izuku’s leg between his thighs, and his hard-on pressing against denim shorts.
“Fuck,” Katsuki breathed out. Mouth hanging open in a silent moan at the pressure against his cock.
Izuku answered with a bite to the skin between his shoulder and neck, tender yet firm,
Katsuki closed his eyes at the feeling. Soft, pillowy lips leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses up his neck and underneath his jaw.
His hands travelled down Izuku’s back, the light material of his cotton shirt covering his freckles, and rested on his ass. Katsuki gave the cheeks a firm squeeze, yanking his best friend closer to him.
“Are you going to undress me or…?”
He could hear the teasing grin of Izuku’s voice against his ear. His breath was hot and damp against it. And Katsuki, the man of action he was, pulled the shirt up and off Izuku’s frame. The soft morning light hit him just right.
Boyish curls danced around his cheeks, curling at the sides of his neck in a soft mid-length shag. Freckles covered his entire face and every inch of his shoulders, chest and body. And the gold of the Saint Thomas Aquinas medal glimmered as it hung in the middle of his chest.
Katsuki felt his throat go dry, the only thing that could satisfy his thirst was to get a taste of Izuku. His lips, his skin, his sweat, his fucking cum down his throat.
So it was decided. The blond let himself drop onto his knees unceremoniously. Bones thudded against the cool granite floors as he desperately reached for the bronze buttons of Izuku's shorts.
“Kacchan, wait–” Katsuki swatted Izuku’s hands away harshly as he pulled and tugged at the offensive clothes.
“You are gonna let me have this. Today, and the rest of the week if fucking needed.”
Izuku could only answer with a throaty moan as he felt Katsuki taking him to the hilt.
…
The mattress was uncovered and the white and red striped sheets were folded neatly by the foot of the bed. Izuku grabbed onto them and the urge to smell them kicked in. Maybe it was the intrusive thoughts with Katsuki standing shirtless by the doorframe staring, or just the fact that they were in that forsaken house—but he could smell the faintness of sunscreen and mint oil they had grown up with. He could smell his childhood and Katsuki wrapped in it.
“Help me make the bed?” Katsuki said softly, walking towards Izuku. His bare feet smacking against the dark wood floors of the room.
Izuku nodded, still holding the sheets tightly to his chest. He saw Katsuki’s timid smile and the way his arms touched his freckled ones gently asking to let go.
In a dance of pulling and tugging, of lifting the heavy mattress and rushing to tuck corners, the bed was finally made.
Katsuki looked around his old room. The desk was cleaned up and his books were organized on his shelf. The rugs were lined up in parallels and no clothes cluttered a trail to his bathroom. One set of sheets, two sets of towels and toothbrushes, three pillows—both for sleeping and a single for decoration.
“You are staying in my room,” Katsuki said as he tucked himself into the bed.
Izuku tried to hide the victorious smile, and with a nod followed along.
They lay next to each other, and the inches between their bodies made them feel oceans apart. It was dark, the only light filtering in was the brightness of the moon slipping through the fabric of the almost sheer ivory curtains. Blues and blacks tinted the pale walls and the humming of the ceiling fan lulled them.
“I can’t believe they don’t have AC. Who the fuck doesn’t have AC,” Katsuki whispered.
“Your grandma would kill anyone who tries to change this house. And I support her for that,” Izuku chuckled and whispered back his answer.
With his eyes closed he could only feel Katsuki moving around next to him. Grumbling and kicking the sheets off himself, careful enough to not unveil Izuku.
They stayed still for a mere moment before Izuku pulled the collar of his shirt over his head, taking his shirt off.
Another beat and Katsuki pushed his basketball shorts down to his ankles to kick them across the room with a flicker of his feet.
A dance of twisted bodies, clothing being flung and protests against the heat left the two friends completely naked against the covered mattress.
“Maybe we could bring the kitchen fan,” Izuku suggested softly, turning his face towards the blonde. He was met with Katsuki’s profile. Eyebrows furrowed over the bridge of his straight nose, the left side of his lips held hostage by sharp canines. He wanted to touch him so bad.
“Or jump in the fucking pool.”
Izuku smirked and shifted his left foot to grace Katsuki’s right. He wished his feet were cold to give some sort of relief to his bed-mate, but his blood was running hot and the flush travelling his body made him uncomfortable.
Katsuki turned to look at Izuku’s gaze fixated on him. His red eyes traveled from the rebellious curl sticking through his bangs, to the speck of freckles concentrated on his nose, to those pink lips unusually dry with dehydration.
Katsuki snapped his eyes back to Izuku’s eyes when he heard him say, “Are you gonna do it?”
“Do what?”
Izuku rolled his eyes in amusement and Katsuki couldn’t help but let a smile crack through his annoyed facade.
His hand sneaked over the curve of Izuku’s waist, traveling upwards to the center of that freckled and defined back to pull him closer. Close enough for their chests to bump against each other, for their nipples to brush with each breath they took, and for their soft lengths to touch. Legs tangled and arms twisted in search of comfort, they both shared a kiss.
Quick, greedy pecks in between grins. Those kisses where teeth touch and smiles are more than contagious. Followed by slow, hungry mouthfuls in between moans. Those kisses where tongues tango and breaths stutter in anticipation of what's to come.
“You’re everything,” Katsuki sighed in pleasure. The coolness of his gold cross resting in the middle of his chest kept him grounded.
“You’re everything,” Izuku repeated, his scalding hot hand now covering the cross, pressing it hard into Katsuki’s flawless skin and heating the metal.
St. Mary Magdalene—Patron of Sinners